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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26090749">But something ere the end</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/zinjadu/pseuds/zinjadu'>zinjadu</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>And not to yield [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action/Adventure, Against all hope, Anger, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Biotic Shepard (Mass Effect), Break Up, Canonical Character Death, Colonist (Mass Effect), Complicated Relationships, Depression, F/F, F/M, Fights, Gen, Memories, Mind whammy, Recovery, Sole Survivor (Mass Effect), Zahra Shepard is a Determinator</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:14:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>43,856</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26090749</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/zinjadu/pseuds/zinjadu</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Zahra Shepard knew this day would come, but no one is ever ready for the end of everything.  Why did she think she'd be any different?   But before the end, she might just find something worth dying for.  Maybe even worth living for.</p><p>Fairly snappy, short snippets of my Shepard's time in ME3, and its various ups and downs.  Also used the Back-Off mod because yes, and rejiggered some of the Kaidan romance to better fit my Shepard, and the fact that Kaidan has a dry sense of humor.  Which the writers kind of forgot about in ME3.  And I shall end it there before this summary turns into an essay.  XD</p><p>This fic is posted in its entirety because real life will prevent a posting schedule, so enjoy the ride!  Be well and take care of each other out there!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>David Anderson &amp; Shepard, EDI &amp; Female Shepard, Female Shepard &amp; Garrus Vakarian, Female Shepard &amp; James Vega, Female Shepard &amp; Liara T'Soni, Grunt &amp; Shepard (Mass Effect), Jack | Subject Zero &amp; Female Shepard, Javik &amp; Shepard, Jeff "Joker" Moreau &amp; Female Shepard, Kaidan Alenko/Female Shepard, Kaidan Alenko/Shepard, Miranda Lawson &amp; Female Shepard, Samara &amp; Female Shepard (Mass Effect), Thane Krios/Female Shepard, a hint of Tali/Traynor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>And not to yield [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1604602</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Obstacle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>While being held on Earth, Zahra finds a way not to lose her mind.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Zahra slammed full body into the ground.  Mud splattered her face, coated her fatigues.  Her hands balled into fists and she pushed herself out of the muck.  Rain pelted down, cold drops striking her skin like tiny hammers of ice.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So much for summer in Vancouver.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not bothering to wipe her face clean, she ran through the mud.  It would’ve been easy to charge the next wall, to bull through it with her biotics instead of going over it.  But that wasn’t the point of the course.  Meet every obstacle on its terms.  She leapt and grabbed the handholds, scrambling to the top.  Another drop, another sprint.  The rope bridge was next.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How many times had she run this course since she’d turned herself in?  Not enough to get the best time.  Yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She grabbed the rope and hooked her legs over it.  Hand over hand, she pulled herself along as fast as she could.  The first time, she hadn’t had gloves and her hands had been raw by the end of the day.  There’d been a pair waiting for her the next morning, and the over-muscled Marine who was her suicide watch didn’t meet her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even money said Anderson had sent Vega to her, guard in both senses of the word.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rain got in her eyes, into her nose, her mouth.  She hung upside down and kept her eyes on the finish line.  Her jaw clenched as her arms burned.  But the burn was good.  The burn meant she was still alive.  Still alive meant she could still fight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hard to fight without an enemy to hit, but the fight she was in right now was to keep from losing her goddamn mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Physical books and pre-selected channels for music cluttered the jail cell the Alliance called her temporary holding quarters.  It had felt like a reprieve for a week.  After that it had turned into hell.  No one was allowed to see her except Anderson, Vega, and a few brass, so she wasn’t inclined to clean up.  Besides, she wasn’t a Marine anymore.  Who cared if the linens weren’t hospital crisp?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One more meter, just one more.  She let her legs swing down and she dropped to the wooden platform and rang the bell before doubling over and catching her breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Time,” she said between pants.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Twenty minutes forty-three.”  Vega held out the stopwatch for her.  Damn, still thirty some seconds off the best time.  She had a lot of work to do.  Funny what being dead did to a body.  Just a body was all she felt like some times.  Just a thing adrift in the void.  Give her a gun and a fight, and she was alive.  Without it.  She wasn’t sure she had anything else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Back to the start, then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, it’s getting colder, Commander.  Think you’ve done enough for today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She ignored him and climbed back down.  He muttered some curses in Spanish and trotted to catch up to her, their boots squelching in the muck.  At the start, she turned her face back up to the rain, letting it drum against her body.  Her hair hung thick and heavy behind her head, longer than she’d worn it since she was a kid.  But Alliance regs about appearance didn’t apply to her anymore either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So why the fuck not?  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You ready, ma’am?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zahra opened eyes as grey as the sky and stared down the obstacle course laid out before her and she grinned without joy, without hope, without expectation, just the fierce determination to live twenty minutes at a time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Count it down, Vega.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Three, two, one, GO!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She ran.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Least</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The ride from Mars to the Citadel was not a fun time.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Isn’t it worth trying, at least?”  There was too much hope in Liara’s blue eyes.  Still a kid in some ways, Shadow Broker or not.  Still so sure that there were </span>
  <em>
    <span>answers.</span>
  </em>
  <span>  Karima had been the same way, she—no, no she was dead.  Dead and gone.  She’d been just a kid.  A scared kid at the end.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra’s hands curled around the bannister, her fingers practically numb.  Like when she’d first been shoved in armor and then out an airlock for zero gee training.  How did she tell Liara that hope was a kind of poison?  It got into you and you couldn’t get it out.  The metal under her fingers squealed and she forced dead fingers to uncurl.  She licked her lips and tasted copper.  Whose blood was it?  Her own?  Some Cerberus goon’s?  She swallowed heavily.  Kaidan’s?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>She leaps across the gap for the open shuttle bay door.  His hand reaches for her, but before the touch of palm to palm, his field snags on hers.  The brush, spark, crack.  The pull that tugs at her from behind her sternum.  His hand is warm, fingers curling around hers, and he pulls her up, honey over gravel, “Welcome aboard, Shepard,” and she likes it more than she should.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I should go check on Kaidan and Vega.”  She left, armor heavy on her too broad shoulders.  Crew, or something like it, hovered on the edges of her awareness.  Bewildered faces under blue caps.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was starting already.  Dog tags back around her neck, Anderson’s reinstatement ran ahead of her.  The salutes, the sidelong glances, the frail lines of hope in shocked, pale faces.  Her boots hit the deck that thrummed as they sped to the relay at FTL speeds.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To the relay, away from Earth.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The elevator doors slid shut behind her and she let her head fall to her chest.  Squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to remember, not to see, but—</span>
  <em>
    <span>the tags are warm, warm from Anderson carrying them around but she’s cold.  Cold in the spot behind her sternum, the metal alloy that keeps her rib cage together.  Anderson meets her eyes for maybe the last time, and they both know it.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The elevator dinged.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Crew deck, where the crew were supposed to be.  There was only Vega.  Out of his armor, he was still a big man.  Big like Miles, but without that human labrador eagerness.  Was Miles dead?  Jae-min?  Didn’t know.  Couldn’t find out.  Or didn’t want to.  The cold that had started as a spot spread through her chest, had sunk it’s claws past her ribs and into the meat of her, the parts of her that were still flesh.  Don’t shiver, she told herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hard to know if she managed it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He watched her from underneath heavy brows.  Was used to that.  Had watched her for months.  Barely talked, but she knew what that slight quirk, that head tilt, the barest downturn of his mouth, knew what it meant.  Overdeveloped shoulders worked, like there was a knot between them.   “Major Alenko’s condition hasn’t changed, ma’am.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You of all people should know what I’m about, Kay,” she says, voice hard, but he grimaces and she knows she shouldn’t have said it, shouldn’t have gone there, too soon, because every last one of her nerves is scraped raw, and he’s got enough live wire tension in the lines of his face already.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vega coughed.  Armored knuckle rapped the table, and Zahra lifted her chin.  “Didn’t think it would.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No word of thanks.  Not much to be thankful for.  She headed to the medbay anyway.  Vega shifted, stood like he was going to follow her.  Months long ingrained habit that.  “Commander?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stand down, Lieutenant.  Chakwas used to keep spare uniforms in the medbay.  Just gonna grab one.”  That would do for a reason.  Might even find something that fit her.  Vega ducked his head and sat back down.  Through the doors, Zahra hit the button to drop the shutters.  No one would expect her to change with those windows open.  That was it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bypassing the storage locker, Zahra edged closer to the occupied medical bed.  Someone had gotten him out of armor and tried to position him a bit better.  Vega?  One of the crew?  It might not matter in the end.  His face was a mass of bruising and cuts, but it was the back of his head that was the problem.  Where that good old L2 implant had been jammed into his brain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even if he woke up, was an open question if he’d be anything like himself again.  Anything like she remembered—</span>
  <em>
    <span>the rumble of a muttered curse makes her grin, like old times in the best and worst way possible as she launches herself, blue corona streaking behind her to slam into a Cerberus merc only for the whirlpool of another field to snag and pull at her own like a riptide threatening to sweep her away.  A fucking reave, he can fucking reave, and she glances over her shoulder as the last merc collapses in a bloody heap.  And he starts in again.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Snatching her hand away like she was about to touch an exposed wire, Zahra breathed out slowly.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ten deep breaths, Zee</span>
  </em>
  <span>, except that there was no room to breathe, no way to put space between her and Cerberus.  Not to him.  She was so fucking cold.  Cold as she had been in the vacuum of space where she had spun out and died.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gritting her teeth, she shucked out of her armor and couldn’t believe her fingers weren’t white.  They should have been white cold for the chill that went down to her metal and calcium bones.  Did the metal make the cold worse?  The metal made everything worse.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She had sweat enough down on Mars, and her skin prickled in the stale, recycled air of the Normandy.  Too long groundside, breathing all that fresh air, had forgotten that ships never smelled right, never heated right.  That was the problem, not her.  The uniform stuck to her body with grimy, cold sweat.  She needed a shower.  Should get cleaned up before hitting the relay and being shot to the Citadel to beg for help that should be fucking self-evident.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She settled for finding some disinfectant and putting up her hair again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The new uniform was at least clean and fit well enough.  Tight in the shoulders, though.  She hit the button, and the shutters went back up.  Vega wasn’t there.  Didn’t know where he’d gone.  Didn’t know if it mattered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Couldn’t bring herself to hover over his beside, nothing else to do until they hit the next system, Zahra let her feet take her somewhere that was familiar, somewhere she knew people didn’t go.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t like through traffic</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  The subdeck of engineering was the same.  The low overhead, the dark red lighting, even Jack’s cot still in the corner.  Or maybe a cot for tired engineers.  Zahra stretched out on it, one leg propped over the side, and pressed her hands to her face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Phantom images flickered behind her eyes, red-tinged images, the invasion of Earth overlaid with the memory of Protheans watching their worlds suffer the same fate—</span>
  <em>
    <span>they land hard, shaking the ground, crushing buildings, people, the laser fires and sears the air, sears flesh, and the desperate death of a people smells the same.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A scream worked itself up into her throat.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t think about it, Zee,” she muttered, hand cupped over her eyes.  “You know the Beacon uses memory.  Don’t be an idiot.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But there was nothing else except the cold that settled in her lungs, nothing to focus on, nothing—</span>
  <em>
    <span>squeak</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She sat up and scanned the subfloor.  Had to be hearing things.  They wouldn’t have kept him.  Probably sent him to a shelter or something, or someone took him home for their kid, or</span>
  <em>
    <span>—squeak</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Boo?”  Stupid thing to name a hamster.  Stupid thing to have a hamster, but there he’d been all little nose and whiskers.  Something small and fuzzy and far away from home.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kneeling, she peered under the cot, and there he was.  Same little twitchy face and big dark eyes.  Ready to run.  “Don’t blame you, little guy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Laying down on the metal decking, Zahra waited.  Chasing a hamster was not the way to catch them.  Norah had had a hamster.  Class pet she’d begged and cried and pleaded to keep after the school year.  She’d run the little thing through mazes and trained it so damned well.  It had died only a few months before she had on a landing pad, and suddenly even the dim red lights were too harsh, the decking cold enough to stick to skin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She didn’t move.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tiny nails scuttled over metal, and Zahra kept as still as she could, but her brain kept spinning, spinning back to the half dead man one floor up, back—</span>
  <em>
    <span>“The person that I loved, are you still in there?  Somewhere?”</span>
  </em>
  
  <em>
    <span>Quiet trepidation, that’s what’s in his eyes, that’s what she’s seeing, what she’s been seeing since the half second they saw each other before everything went to hell.  Quiet and stubborn, that was her Kay, and she knew, knew what he wanted to hear, that she was still herself, but Jesus fuck how was she supposed to know?  </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>She licks her lips and, “I’m still me, Kaidan, and I still.  I still care.”  Care like the pull of gravity, unstoppable and something she can’t fucking help.  Around him she just falls, just fits.  He watches her, those dark eyes that see all of her in a single glance, and he taps his leg, like he’s tapping a pocket, to make sure something is still there.  His field is contained, so contained, but for a second there’s a brush, the barest flicker of something, and a spark and maybe they can figure it—</span>
  </em>
  <span>The nudge of a tiny, slightly damp nose was a different kind of hope.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She scooped up the fuzzy body, a bit thin but still going strong.  Still warm as warm as a mug of coffee in her hands, with his little heart beating a mile a minute.  Maybe someone fed him.  Or he snuck food from distracted crew.  It was hard to be grim with that little face staring at her, either way.  Little black eyes that trusted her.  After a pat for Boo between the eyes, Zahra levered herself up and snuck up to her own cabin.  Dropping him off in his cage, she got him some water and rummaged around for food.  The little greedy guts shoved two pellets into his mouth at the same time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The corner of her mouth twitched up.  Boo was simple.  Boo was straight forward.  Food and shelter and he was happy.  Content.  He nosed around the shavings and tested the wheel as she watched him.  It squeaked, but she didn’t mind.  It would be better than silence, silence that would fill in with the heavy sound of a Reaper landing, the screams of children burning to death, the sick, cracking thud of a skull against ship plating.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Static cracked over her skin and ozone hung in the air as she slammed open palms to the desktop.  A snake of ice cracked down her chest.  Boo squeaked, and she huffed.  She’d never been good at looking after people, but at least she could take care of a damned hamster.  At least she could do that much.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yes, Boo is named after Boo of the same name from Baldur's Gate.  A classic!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Unreason</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Zahra finds a little footing past the point of reason.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Palaven burned as the Normandy streaked back to the relay.  Zahra watched Victus out the corner of her eye.  Held himself like he half expected to pull a pistol at a moment’s notice.  She supposed she looked the same way.  Leaving a planet under attack by the Reapers probably did that to a person.  Or at least a person like her.  Like Victus.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They had work to do.  More windmills to tilt at.  Six months had let her make it most of the way through that tome of a book, the book Kasumi had given her.  Was probably lost along with everything else.  A priceless book up in flames.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra put the mad man of La Mancha out of her head and opened up the latest report.  She sniffed and rubbed her nose with the back of her hand.  A red spot of blood stood out against her sandy skin.  Hard to tell if that was from slamming face first into a Brute or a leftover from dancing with Vega in the shuttle bay.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe both.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Good thing she had a plate in her head, otherwise she might be more damaged than she already was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was hell out there.  So fast.  It was all going so wrong so </span>
  <em>
    <span>quickly</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  Three years.  They should have had three years to get ready.  To beef up every military, to quietly ferret out who would be likely to crack and get them out of the way, to even find that Prothean device and build it without the threat of annihilation breathing down their necks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No, something much worse than annihilation would come first.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Subjugation.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The difference between dying on a landing pad at thirteen and twelve, or turning into the poor thing that Talitha had become.  Death before dishonor.  Martyrdom rather than capitulation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Was that all the choice that would be left to them at the end?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra didn’t know.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The same report had been open for five minutes, and she hadn’t read a fucking word.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Was hard to read at all, the way her eyes kept going out of focus.  The handful of nights she’d had since leaving Earth had been a carousel of nightmares.  Let’s go for a ride, her brain said, let’s see what horror we can pull up next.  Watching her sisters, her parents, her classmates die, all overlaid with the systematic, screaming destruction of whole Prothean worlds.  Her own dark death spinning out into the mouth of the abomination she’d blown up at the Collector Base, a mishmash of horror that only her own mind could come up with.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Or the boy.  The boy from Earth running through the burning woods of Mindoir.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra’s chest tightened and static sparked over her skin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> need this.  Could</span>
  <em>
    <span> not</span>
  </em>
  <span> afford to go down this path.  Not this time, not again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span> it hurt.  Like a gunshot to the chest, like maw acid eating away her flesh.  The scar from that day might be gone, but she’d never forget it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Never forget looking up and seeing that </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing</span>
  </em>
  <span> above her, rearing into the red and sandy sky of Akuze.  One lucky biotic throw got it off her long enough to scramble to solid ground.  All because when she was down, she kept swinging.  What had Anderson said when she’d taken command of the Normandy?  The first time?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It was that you wouldn’t go down without a fight.  You were on your ass, and you still fought.  Past the end of anything that would be reasonable to ask, you kept going.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re well past reasonable now, sir,” she muttered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Victus looked up from his reports, probably as grim as the ones she couldn’t focus on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you say something Shepard?”  He tilted his head at her, flanges twitching in a way that was like a brow raise in a human.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just talking to someone who isn’t here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, I think there’s a lot of that going around.  Probably more as this war goes on.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She opened her mouth to say something, something from the glacial depths of her that locked everything else down tight.  Because it was all too much.  Overloaded, overlocked, what was left of her to feel after what she’d seen?  But then.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>They’re yours to protect, Zahra-ahuva</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The one you feed, Zee</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bracing her hands on either side of the monitor, Zahra breathed out and met Victus square in the eye.  Her stomach clenched, and there was a tingle at the back of her head right around her implant.  A jolt, a spark.  She was on her ass and the end of everything was staring down at her again.  All she had was one punch left to her.  And by God, she’d fucking take that punch.  Every time.  No question.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She raised her chin.  “Then let’s make them pay for it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She smiled, really smiled.  It hurt, the wires under her face unused to the expression.  Nearly a year since she’d been resurrected, and smiling still hurt.  But it felt right.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Victus matched her grin with the eager flick of flanges.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shepard,” he hummed.  “I think we’ll work well together.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Me too.”  She drew herself up and squared her shoulders.  When was the last time she’d done that?  The last time she’d stood on the deck of her ship and smiled in the face of oblivion?  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Right before she’d died, probably.  But even knowing that, thinking that,  it felt good.  Felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>right</span>
  </em>
  <span> to plant her feet and </span>
  <em>
    <span>stand</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  There was a pressing, growing sensation behind her breastbone.  A restless, </span>
  <em>
    <span>eager</span>
  </em>
  <span> kick in her step.  Hell, she could swear she could </span>
  <em>
    <span>see</span>
  </em>
  <span> better, hear more.  The world had color, had </span>
  <em>
    <span>weight</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It felt like being back where she’d always belonged.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It felt almost like being whole.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Entire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Whosoever saves one life, saves the world entire.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Jack’s knuckles cracked hard against Zahra’s cheek.  Rolled her shoulder with the punch, followed the momentum, but she still tasted copper.  Worse was the volcanic riot of the biotic field cracked over her own.  It seared through the back of her neck, a line of fire that spiked into her brain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She winced.  Would be feeling that tomorrow.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you not to trust Cerberus,” Jack growled.  Zahra bared her teeth for half a second, wanting to snap right back.  She had </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> trusted Cerberus.  What in all her life had made people think she would?  The Alliance, old friends, </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  The red heat of her cybernetics made the already forming bruise on her cheek ache more.  Then she glanced up to the balcony, anxious kids bouncing on their toes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not more than seventeen, any of them.  Just kids. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zahra wiped away the blood from the corner of her mouth.  “Yeah, you did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack frowned, like she expected a fight.  Maybe once.  Back on the Normandy when it had been flying different colors and Zahra’s cybernetics were a burning, branding reminder of two years lost, stolen, the death she shouldn’t have come back from.  The death she hadn’t really come back from at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zahra stared down the hawkish line of her nose at the self proclaimed psychotic biotic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, the sooner we get going, the sooner we can get my guys out of here.”  The tone was disinterested, but Jack’s gaze slid away.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zahra smiled, even if it made her face ache.  “Your guys?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Jack said gruffly, her eyes drifting up to the balcony and going soft.  “My guys.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then let’s get them the fuck out of here, and hey, I promise to leave a few Cerberus assholes for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack’s grin was sharp as knives.  “Knew there was a reason I liked you anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fight to the shuttles was touch and go, one of the kids nearly dragged away, but the second the shuttles docked in the Normandy’s cargo bay, and the kids bounded out.  All eagerness and excitement.  It was like they hadn’t almost been hauled away by Cerberus for their experiments, their twisted version of progress.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zahra clapped a hand to Jack’s shoulder.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t tell me, Shepard.  You’re what?  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Proud of me</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”  Jack huffed and shrugged off Zahra’s hand.  “Well, don’t need to hear it from you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words were tough.  Always would be.  This was Jack, after all.  Zahra shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t think you did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The kids had practically taken over the shuttle bay, already.  Vega shouted at them to stay away from his weights, which they were ignoring.  Jack groaned in frustration.  She opened her mouth to yell at them, but Zahra shook her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sure?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prangley had found a ball somewhere, and it looked like he was trying to start up a bioball game.  The girl, Rodriegez, was cooing over the robot dog.  And David, David was speaking quietly to the shuttle, Cortez keeping an eye on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” she said.  “Let them be kids for a little bit longer, Jack.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was getting to be a habit.  Finding people in the middle of hell and dragging them out.  Couldn’t save them all, Garrus was right.  There never would be saving them all.  But saving </span>
  <em>
    <span>some</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  Some was better than </span>
  <em>
    <span>none</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  All it took was one, she knew.  Just </span>
  <em>
    <span>one</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Whosoever saves one life saves the world entire.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Over a dozen worlds saved right here in her shuttle bay.  She could let them spin on a little longer.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Triangle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>So there's that time when both Kaidan and Thane are in the same hospital.  A meeting that super needed to happen.</p><p>Character interactions fixed up in light of the ever life-saving Back Off Mod.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Couldn’t put it off any longer.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>One little email and she’d avoided the Citadel.  The kids at Grissom Academy had needed saving, and fast.  No one would blame her for going there first.  Then there had been that Cerberus Lab on Sanctum.  Never a good idea to let something like that go, and they’d found good intel there.  Had also needed to test out EDI’s new platform.  That had been important.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then the second they’d docked, she’d come running, hadn’t she?  Though the short run from the elevator to his room shouldn’t have set her heart to racing like it was now.  Whiskey in hand, the kind she knew he liked because he’d ordered it from that one noodle place when they’d taken an all too brief shoreleave together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was stupid.  She should go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he wanted to see her, so.  Through the door, past Udina, she put the Councilor out of her mind and focused on the person who had slipped past her defenses years ago.  Who had gotten her a powerbar bouquet, who hadn’t been afraid or overwhelmed.  Who had taken one look at her crazy and signed up for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” she said, voice lame to her own ears.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Shepard.”  His voice was the same soft honey over gravel burr it had always been.  Face was still a mass of bruises, but it was still him behind those dark eyes.  Those dark eyes that were like a gravity well all their own.  A grin tugged at the corners of her mouth, and it didn’t even hurt to smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And when he put his hand over hers and told her that there was no one else, no doctor he was still seeing, and that he still cared.  Zahra squeezed his hands between her own, and there was that brush of his field against hers, the spark-crack of static that tingled up her skin.  Pressed against her lips like a phantom kiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So do I,” she said through a tight throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had nearly lost him twice.  Like hell she was going to let there be a third time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she knew, to keep him, there was someone else she’d have to let go.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaidan shifted in the bed when Tannor came back.  Zahra was still on the Citadel, but she couldn’t spend all her time here.  He knew that.  She had work to do.  Though she’d said she’d come back before she left for that diplomatic summit.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>God, he’d give anything to be there with her.  It was where he should have been the whole time, but well.  He couldn’t change the past, just try to do what was right where he was now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You seem in much better spirits today,” Tannor said.  There was a pleasant, polite smile on his face, but a shadow lingered in his eyes.  Kaidan doubted Tannor was his real name, or that anything about him was the straight truth.  “I take it that the woman you spoke of visited you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, she did.”  Kaidan’s smile was reflexive and automatic,nothing he could’ve stopped.  Didn’t care, though.  Wouldn’t want to.  Her coming to visit had given him the chance to say things he should have ages ago.  And seeing her again, feeling her field spark and crack against his, always wild, Zee.  No, he shouldn’t think that.  Not </span>
  <em>
    <span>Zee</span>
  </em>
  <span> anymore.  But maybe, maybe they could have that again?  Of all the things to think about in the middle of a war, but—Tannor was speaking, and he missed it.  “Sorry, what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The drell chuckled, but it turned into a cough.  Kaidan sat up a bit more and almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>pulled</span>
  </em>
  <span> the chair out for him.  Tannor waved him off and gracefully sat himself down.  Always moved well, Tannor.  He was trained.  Covert ops for sure.  Having taught others how to move like that, it was impossible not to see it in others.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My apologies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For what?  Coughing?  You’re sick, and I wasn’t listening.  That’s on me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tannor regarded him for a long, slow heartbeat, and then tilted his head thoughtfully.  “It is alright.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence stretched in the hospital room.  There was a very short list of drell with Kepral’s syndrome who could move like an assassin.  He might have been knocked around pretty hard, but he wasn’t blind.  And Jae-min might have gotten him some intel on the crew from the Collector Base mission.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know,” he said slowly, trying to pick his words carefully.  “She’s kind of, um, wild.  Nearly gave me a heart attack the first time I saw her charge with her biotics.  But then, I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tannor’s face went blank for a long, drawn out moment before a slow smile curved the man’s mouth.  “No,” he said, “you do not.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Kaidan just wanted to come by before we leave for—what the fuck?”  Zahra was losing her mind.  No big deal, she’d just gone completely crazy because she </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>be seeing this.  This shouldn’t be possible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kaidan, face still all over bruises, attempted a rueful sort of grin.  Thane, though, Thane just regarded her with those opaque eyes.  A dull ache throbbed at her temples.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Shepard, this is—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kaidan, I know who he is.  Do you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I believe we are aware of who the other is, si—Shepard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zahra’s breathing shortened alarmingly.  This was too much.  This was </span>
  <em>
    <span>insane</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  Of all the hospitals in all the galaxy, they had to be in the same one?  They had to meet and sit down and chat?  Her head fell into her hands, and she muttered into them.  “There must be a God.  There’s a God, and He’s got one fucked up sense of humor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shepard?”  Two voices, both deep and resonant, each inflecting on her name.  One in a way that bypassed her ears, the other in a way that tickled them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know,” she sighed, scrubbing her hand over her face.  “This has been a long week, and I really, really did not expect this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Citadel been keeping you busy?”  Kaidan’s tone was guileless and she risked a glance at him.  Still shirtless.  Pretty sure the local staff were having fun keeping him that way.  The chair squeaked.  Thane stood and offered it to her without a word.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” she said, and then caught herself.  No, no they were not making this normal.  This was about as far from normal as things got.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will leave you two to speak,” Thane said, half bowing as he left.  Zahra couldn’t help the twinge of guilt that knocked at her chest.  What the fuck was wrong with her?  But she let him go, watched him cough himself out.  Heavily, she sat, one leg bouncing restlessly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you mad?”  She blurted the question out into the stillness of beeping machines.  His expression would have been funny except nothing about this was funny.  Mouth parted in shock and confusion furrowed his brow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mad?  I’m not.  I mean, why would I be?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because normally my ex’s at least have light years between them.  Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I mean it’s not like I have a lot of—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seem to recall you saying you had a string of failed relationships longer than your wingspan,” he drawled.  Zahra’s heart stopped for a second before he caught up to his tone and, well, everything.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not funny to toy with me, Alenko,” she growled darkly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’ve cut off the entertainment feeds, you know.  Have to amuse myself somehow, Shepard.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a bad man.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe a little,” he conceded.  “Now come on, tell me what you’ve been up to before you get back out there and save the galaxy without me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re that hard up for entertainment aren’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have no idea.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, alright, so what do you want to hear about first?  EDI’s new body and her interest in Joker, Liara meeting her dad, or Garrus having generals salute him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s.  A lot.  And a hard choice.  Tell you what, you pick your favorite and we’ll go from there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Easy,” Zahra said with a chuckle.  “EDI asking for dating advice.  From </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  This is nuts.  Okay, it’s like this…”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thane held himself still, as still as deep water and watched as the woman he had come to love spoke with the man she always had.  In his time with her, he tried to recall if she had ever smiled, truly smiled so that it softened the angles of her face and made her grey eyes dance like high clouds.  If she had laughed at all, as she laughed now, her head thrown back and her shoulders relaxed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment, when she had told him that she still cared for the man she had nearly lost, he had been.  Upset.  Fractious.  Disconnected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To say he could put such things aside and to do so were two separate things entirely.  His honor had compelled him to watch over Kaidan Alenko.  Curiosity, a trait he had long thought quelled, had compelled him to understand the man.  He was a soldier yes, but not entirely.  Controlled, careful, cautious.  Everything Shepard was not.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And yet, with him, she laughed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thane breathed as deep as his ruined lungs would allow, closing his eyes and bowing his head over clasped hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>May you keep the one who gives you light, siha</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alenko was Zahra Shepard’s Irikah, and he would not stand between such a thing.  And, gods willing, he would see his own Irikah again soon.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He breathed out shallowly, but a cough racked his chest.  He should go sit.  Kolyat would visit soon.  And that was always a good thing. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Better</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The problem with trying to open back up, to let a certain someone back in, is that you don't always get to choose what comes out.  And Zahra has a lot saved up.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Kicking off her sheets, Zahra rolled onto her stomach.  Maybe that would help.  The blackness behind her eyes was just that, blackness.  No field of whirling stars, no red-tinged screaming, no lost boy running through a burning forest.  Just safe, simple blackness.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sleep.  She was going to sleep.  Needed to sleep before attempting diplomacy.  Except she could hear her own eyelashes against the pillowcase.  With a low bleat of frustration, she sat up and threw her pillow to the far side of the room.  It landed with a soft whoomp.  Bare feet hit the floor hard, the shock of cold running up her legs and jolting her into action.  Propelled her all the way to the shuttle bay.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wrapping tape around her knuckles, she tested the swing of the bag.  That was all just a test, to see what she could do.  Had a lot of kinks to work out.  Months of the obstacle course but no combat.  Had felt sluggish on Palaven.  The thin air, she’d blamed the thin air and the dust, but she knew, knew that it was still catching up to her, still running like a glacier through her brain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were all cutting it fine— </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“How long has it been since you heard from them?”  There’s sigh, no twitch of his flanges, just a dry, “Long enough to be worried.”  Once, she might’ve told him not to worry, joked about pep-talks and punch cards, but all she can do is put a hand on his shoulder and they both know it might not be enough.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Couldn’t afford to let up, couldn’t stop.  Stopping wasn’t in her.  Not anymore.  Had decided to get back up, to crack open the dead part of her chest, to find the pieces of her that had been missing since they’d been replaced with metal and wires.  And now it was all buzzing, tangled mess.  Building and building behind her eyes, at the back of her neck, over her skin, nothing and no one to bleed it off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The taste of ozone on her tongue— </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Then you are saying the outcome is an unknown quantity, but I should attempt it anyway?”  EDI, and God isn’t this weird, EDI’s eyes track her expressions almost like she’s searching for the right answer.  Needing it.  But there are no answers.  She wonders if she’s a fucking coward.  She’s only ever fallen in love once, but EDI needs something so, “No one fell in love without being a little bit brave.”  </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The punch swung the bag hard, rocking to the end of the chain.  It careened back toward her.  Shifting her weight, she sidestepped the wild swing and bounced on her toes back into fighting stance.  Hands up by her face, she dodged and weaved between phantom punches, ducked under a wild hook.  Twisting her hips, she threw all her weight behind the low uppercut.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blue flickered around her hand and—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Besides, this is hardly the time for family reunions.”  Liara’s face is set, brows furrowed, jaw jutting stubbornly.  The sucking, cold emptiness that had crawled into her when she’d died in space tells her to walk away, to not even try.  To hold back.  But fuck, there’s no holding back anymore.  No time for later, Zahra stares down at Liara.  “I know I’d give damn near anything to talk to my dad right now, so if you don’t get your ass over there, I’ll kick it there myself.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Another punch, just a touch of biotic force crackling blue around her fist.  The whole metal stand groaned like it was in pain, but the buzz in her skull bled off like someone turning down a knob.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey Lola, you wanna ease up on that punching bag?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My ship,” she countered with a punch.  The chain creaked.  This was better.  Working out the static, the stiffness.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, but we don’t want to make Estaban work too hard, you feel me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Better</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  “It’s his job.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right, it is.”  He circled her, watched her.  Had watched her for months, was watching her still?  “But he’s had a hard go of it, no?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Soft jab and then a hard hook, the bag swung wild, and she steadied it with her fingertips.  No biotic fission there, just plain old muscle power, but that wasn’t enough.  Wouldn’t be enough.  It would build and build and build until her skin was on fire with it, until her wires sparked and overloaded, until she was— </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ten deep breaths, Zee</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She breathed out, fingers curling and uncurling into fists.  “You’re right,” she said, forcing her heels to touch the decking.  Don’t bounce, don’t give in to the tremble-shake in her legs.  “He has been through a lot.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At the memorial wall, putting up the recording of his husband.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was like her brain sidestepped that.  Didn’t want to remember it, didn’t want to see it.  Didn’t want to see the refugees pouring into the Citadel, the pleas, the crying, the rage, the fear.  How it made the air stink, how it choked.  How there were just kids down there, like Traynor was a kid who shouldn’t even be on this ship, but here she was.  At least the kid was on the Normandy where it was cleaner, brighter.  Traynor and Cortez could watch the ships dock, silent and clean.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wiped the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Spot me.”  It wasn’t a question.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A smirk curved his mouth.  “Bet you can’t out press me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her grin was just as quick and twice as sharp.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll take that bet.”  She plonked herself down on the bench and got her hands on the bar.  The rough grip rasped against the callouses on her palms.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Show me what you got.”  The challenge in his voice was subdued, but he did his job as spotter.  But he fell away, it all fell away.  The animal pen closeness of the refugee holding area, the petty annoyance of running errands for Aira’s criminal gangs, the maddening motivation of the illusive son of a bitch, Miranda’s cloak and dagger routine, and Thane coughing himself to death while watching over Kaidan.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And here, in the middle of the night, she was like a rogue planet.  Spinning out of orbit, no gravity to hold her anywhere.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vega put more weight on, and she strained against it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But she wasn’t going to lose it.  She was doing better. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Hashkavah</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After Sur'Kesh, Virmire is too damned close to the surface.  But Zahra has a way to deal, and to continue to honor the sacrifice that Ashley Williams made.  The sacrifice that got them this far.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Zahra’s hands curled into fists.  If one more person talked about Virmire like it was something be remembered fondly, she was going to cause an intergalactic incident no one could afford.  It was an effort to breathe right, to not shift her weight and.  What?  Punch Wrex, Kirrahe?  An old friend, a good ally?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The one you feed, Zee</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dad always had the good advice.  Something she had Williams had had in common.  Dad got it.  Dad had </span>
  <em>
    <span>understood</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  And Dad was gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So was Williams.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shook her head, trying to clear it.  Wrex was right, though.  Sur’Kesh smelled wrong.  It was too green, too wet.  Overripe like fruit just shy of rotting.  But all she had to do was get the female and get out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then the klaxons went off, and Zahra grinned.  Static built along the base of her skull, buzzing into her head, her teeth.  “Come and get me,” she muttered as the elevator doors closed.  She didn’t see the concern that hovered between Garrus and Liara.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gonna get you out of here,” she promised the krogan female.  Disbelief rolled out of the quarantine box in waves.  Zahra let them hit her, wash over her.  Could say it was just the right thing to do, the good thing, what the krogan deserved, what the female should have after God knew what she suffered.  After what Mordin knew she suffered.  The STG base might be cleaner, the ugliness hidden under nicer tarp.  But a body under a tarp was a body under a fucking tarp.  The fission of dark energy arced up her spine, and Zahra climbed the ladder with ears still ringing from the bomb.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All she really wanted was to punch something until it didn’t need punching anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Half-husks in Cerberus armor took up positions, and a knife sharp grin cut her face.  Arms out, head down, the static built and built and built, a corona around her just shy of a surge.  Point to point, like she was her own faster than light drive, she slammed full body into one of the illusive fuckers twisted soldiers.  The crack of armor to armor was music to her ears, and she reared up, the fission still crackling, arcing, a ball of blue lightning barely contained by her body.  Ozone filled her helmet as she struck the ground, the dregs of her field a shockwave in all directions, a tsunami of dark energy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Behind her a scream rose into the air and a dull pop propelled another body over the edge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A wild laugh bubbled up from her chest, crawling past her throat like a toad out of a well.  “Good shot, Garrus!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shepard, watch out!” Liara cried, her hand reaching out in a claw.  A merc Zahra hadn’t even seen writhed in place.  Was always good of Liara to set that one up for her.  Blue corona around her fist, she broke the Cerberus goon’s faceplate, sharp metal caving into grey tech-flesh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Williams would’ve had a field day with this.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zahra’s hands curled around a cup of heavily sugared and creamed coffee.  The scent wafted up her nose, cut out the lingering after-rain ozone smell that was becoming more persistent.  The crew deck was nearly deserted, but then it was the middle of dog watch.  Only the lights in the medical bay were still on.  Mordin working away.  Mordin trying to undo his own work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So much to undo, so much to fix, to get right.  There was no getting all of it right.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Crucible.  Taking shape already.  The long shot, the Hail Mary, the last play, bases loaded, down for the count, on the ropes.  Only choice was to come out swinging or not at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her leg started to bounce.  Frowning at it, the traitorous limb that it was, she stood and left her coffee behind.  Probably didn’t need it.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door to the medbay slid open.  Mordin blinked at her with those big dark eyes, eyes like black mirrors.  She stared into them, the harsh planes of her face and hawkish nose reflected back to her.  “Shepard, just in time.  Could be a breakthrough.  Ethics of data aside, new development.  Very promising, but patter.  Patter upsets Eve.  Favor to ask.  Show her the ship?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He blinked and there was something like friendly concern in the curve of his mouth.  Zahra ran a hand over her face, the heaviness of the metal in her taking on a new weight.  From amped to exhausted in no time.  But Mordin had asked, so.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, alright,” she rasped.  Hadn’t talked so much in so long.  And now, suddenly, she was talking.  Endless talking and negotiations.  How long had it been?  Weeks?  Just weeks.  It felt like a lifetime.  “Eve,” she said, and the krogan’s head moved with deliberate slowness.  Nothing about Eve was reckless.  Brave, bold, but never reckless.  “You up for a walk while Mordin says upsetting things?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve’s chuckle was just as heavy and dark as the space behind Zahra’s eyes.  “That would be welcome, Commander.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There had been another woman who had laughed at the darkness, too.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And here we are,” she said, gesturing vaguely at the crew deck.  “Back home, such as it is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Commander, for the tour.  It was good to walk and see the stars.  It has been a long time since I saw stars so clearly.”  Eyes crinkled behind the veil, the only hint of a smile.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, glad for that.  We should get you back—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A moment.  This wall, these names,” Eve said, breaking away from the path back to the medbay.  One three fingered hand brushed the plaques, reaching for the one that was starting to develop a shiny spot.  A place where someone kept touching their fingers to metal.  “This name in particular is well remembered.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The whole ship, the whole ship had mourned her, and Zahra.  Zahra had a hard knot that lived lodged deep in her chest.  That was there still.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you would have liked her.”  The words didn’t fall from lips fast and sharp, but were drawn out.  A slow, meandering sort of thought that worked out from somewhere deeper than thought.  “She had faith.  Faith that there was something bigger than the universe.  Never had much faith, myself.  At least not like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Faith is much like hope.  It requires that we have nothing else, but demands everything of us, Commander.  It is not easy to sustain, yet we must.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Zahra said absently.  She tapped her pocket and felt the jagged line of a crystal there.  Zahra weighed the crystal in her hand.  It was small.  Chipped and flaked away in its use as a chisel.  Her fingers traced edges worn smooth by near constant handling, a talisman against a suffering so deep only hope could sustain a body through it.  She raised her head and met Eve’s eyes.  The static over her skin bled away, and her heartbeat slowed, the tightness in her chest easing.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eve, got a favor to ask you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ask, Commander, though I cannot say I will agree.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think,” Zahra said slowly, “you might like this.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s the middle of the night, Commander,” Joker whined.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t care, get down here,” Zahra ordered.  She cut off the comms before his grumbling turned insubordinate.  Garrus’s low chuckle announced his arrival.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He isn’t going to let you forget that, Shepard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My ship.  He can deal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But is this necessary to do now?  Could we not have done this in the morning?” Liara asked.  Still fully dressed.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry to drag you away from your monitors, but not sorry.  This is important.”  The hiss of the elevator doors turned her head.  “Adams, you got the tools?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yup, this should do it.”  Kit in hand, her chief engineer started to set up.  No one else she’d trust to do this, to do it right.  Well, maybe a couple of others, but they weren’t here.  And this had to be done now.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I believe this will be appropriate as well, and Garrus, don’t worry, I have something for you too.  Dr. Michele insisted I bring it for you,” Chakwas said, bottle of rum and some dextro liquor in hand.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pour a round, Doc, and let’s get this started,” she said as the elevator opened again.  Joker hobbled out with Wrex half a step behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shepard,” Wrex grumbled, “you trying to piss me off?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only every day, Wrex.  It’s how you know I care,” she drawled.  “Just get your rum and be here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grunted, but took the glass from Chakwas and started to drink.  “Hey!” Joker snapped, “no drinking yet.”  Zahra raised an eyebrow at him but he shrugged.  “What?  Just cause I’m not happy about being woken up doesn’t mean we don’t do this right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Joker.”  The wry grin came to her face without her leave, but that was alright.  Right here, right now, it was alright. “Alright, let’s do this.  Adams, here you go, careful with it now.  Eve donated this to the cause.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spectators gathered on the edges, but only people who had stood on the decks of the SR-1 had a glass in hand.  The quiet whirr of the screwdriver filled the dimness.  Adams brushed away fine metal dust, and the crystal that was a candle that was as a chisel that was a fulcrum sat firmly next to the bold name of Ashley Williams.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zahra raised her glass, all eyes on her, but she fixed her gaze on that name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To Ashley Williams, a finer soldier I never knew.  We stand here today, today is fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>possible</span>
  </em>
  <span> because of her.  Now it’s our turn to carry this the rest of the way.  To Ashley!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rum was tacky and over sweet and just the way Ash had liked it.  Because she wouldn’t let herself forget.  Or anyone else.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Note: Hashkavah is the Sephardic term of the prayer of remembrance recited every Shabbat (Sabbath), on festivals, Mondays, Tuesdays, and at funerals.  Specific observances vary by congregation.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Fugue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Zahra starts loosing track of time as the missions keep coming, and as the inexorable destruction of the galaxy rages on.</p>
<p>The number of dead were always going to be too many.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>How many missions did that make?  Hurtling from one system to the next, picking up units that had been cut off or lost, scrounging for resources in the middle of shipwrecks.  The Normandy screamed through the relays like a bolt of lighting, here and gone.  From sighting to tipoff to evac and on and on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>How long had they been out here since Sur’Kesh?  Weeks?  How long since Utukku and the rachnii queen had finally died?  Where the hell did it all go?  Worse was that it all blurred together.  Last thing she remembered clearly was—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Blood slicks down his armor, could barely get a grip on him.  All seven hundred pounds of tankbred krogan lean on her.  She feels the cybernetics compensating, reinforcing muscles, bracing joints, whirring, ticking over.  It's hard to tell if the burn was coming from him or her.  Seared flesh and the smoke of death hang around him, her own flesh on fire from the wires working overtime.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>But for once, she doesn’t care.  “I’ve got you Grunt,” she breathes.  She has him.  She has him. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra blinked, and she was standing on another planet.  Benning.  Civilians dying, screaming.  Cerberus, their face plates broke apart under her fists, blue bright and wild over her fingers around a dark center.  Swinging the shotgun around, she blasted another bastard through the chest, the shot burning a hole in his armor.  With a vicious yell, something dragged up from the depths of her, because </span>
  <em>
    <span>here</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span> she was alive.  She was fighting.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Except when she wasn’t fighting.  When she wasn’t fighting and she walked the ship and her leg bounced without her leave, when her fingers drummed on tables absently, when she couldn’t sit still otherwise the cold would catch up to her.  It would catch up to her, that numbing, blissful oblivion, and she could go back to being locked down tight. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just a body, but there was no denying she wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> a body.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not anymore, not when—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>His dark brown eyes almost hide a spark of blue when she walks in, and they talk about his promotion and don’t say the thousand things that hover in the space between them, words suspended like satellites at LaGrange points, perfectly orbiting, never falling to the ground.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>She goes one way, he goes another, and the elliptical arc of their gravity propels them past each other.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sucking in a hard breath, she shot up from her bed.  What time was it?  What day was it?  She checked her chrono, but that couldn’t be right.  They hadn’t been out that long.  They had only just left the Citadel.  Cortez had helped her find just the thing for Grunt.  Hell of a procurement officer, he had grinned when she’d told him what she wanted, and he’d—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You got it, Commander.  After the condition he was in, he more than deserves it,” Cortez agrees, but there’s a curious tilt to his head.  “Mind if I ask why, though?”  She huffs, not a laugh, laughing wasn’t for right now, but it’s something like amusement that lives in the spaces when she doesn’t think too much.  </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“He likes dinosaurs.  The T-Rex is his favorite.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The mug was warm in her hand.  Coffee, blessed coffee.  Full of enough sugar to kill a horse and there to keep her going when her eyeballs were about to mutiny.  Strange, that those still felt like her.  She knew that there were implants in there.  Sometimes, she wondered how they got her eye color right.  Most of the time she tried to not think about it all.  Except that she couldn’t escape it, any more than she could escape her own body.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sipping her coffee, she beat out a little routine.  Here and there, everywhere and nowhere.  It was better than being still, it was—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Garrus does a double take.  “Shepard what is that?”  </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Zahra glances down to where Garrus was pointing.  There, in her breast pocket, Boo’s little face peeks out.  She pats his fuzzy head.  </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“My hamster.  His name is Boo.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“That doesn’t exactly answer my question, and I have a feeling I’ll regret asking this, but.  Why is it in your pocket?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I came to get coffee and I thought I’d take him for a walk, clearly.  He doesn’t like being cooped up too much.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Flanges twitch once before going completely still.  Then he coughs awkwardly.  “Right, well.  I should leave you to it, then?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Probably for the best.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Setting down her coffee mug, and the world shifted.  Worlds shifted.  Blurred past her vision as the galaxy map whirled.  A holographic display bright and beautiful and clean.  But nothing was really clean.  It was all a fucking mess.  The wreckage of Arcturus station was silent and glittering against the backdrop of stars.  Gone.  Thousands of souls, obliterated.  The Normandy’s lights shone through the wreckage, twisted metal and decompressed bodies floating side by side in the void.  She stared out the window of the bridge, one hand on the back of Joker’s chair, the other braced on the ceiling, as if by holding on to the ship she wouldn’t see her body out there, wouldn’t see—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“The likelihood of survivors is low, Shepard.  The batarian systems were the first to be hit.”  EDI’s modulated voice is even and cool, but it sets her teeth on edge.  Her buzzing teeth that taste like rain.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“We keep scanning, EDI,” she growls.  “Keep scanning the whole fucking system.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“While the Normandy’s stealth systems are capable of hiding our emissions, sending out frequent pulses is inadvisable.  The Reapers will notice.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Then we outrun them.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I am not certain—”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“People don’t function on likelihoods, EDI.  That’s not what we do.  We keep going and fuck the odds.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>EDI’s eyes search her face as the burning brand of her cybernetics break through her skin as the edge comes closer and closer.  Zahra wonders if EDI knows all the things that are missing like the scar on her eyebrow from when she clipped the cupboards as a kid.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Very well, Shepard.”  There is no sigh.  EDI does sarcasm with the best of them, but not resignation.  “I will keep scanning.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Good,” she bit out.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra shook her head, trying to clear it, but she can’t get her bearings.  Bouncing from one system to the next.  She was losing track of where she was until the bitter, dry air of Tuchanka was heavy in her mouth, scraped in her lungs.  The heavy, ancient surface to space gun fired and she felt the thump in her chest.  It made her grin.  Fiercely, joylessly, madly.  She grinned and threw her body at the Cerberus soldiers.  Her yell followed her down the tunnel of her own mass effect field, where she slammed into Liara’s wrap with a tidal wave crash of field to field feedback.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It set her teeth to buzzing and she ran her tongue over them.  They tasted of ozone, like the air before a storm about to break.  Because she would always find a way to break something.  So much was so very, very breakable— </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“How’s your dad, by the way?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Liara’s fingers freeze over the console.  “My dad?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah, Matriarch Aethyta.  Your dad.  You did talk to her, right?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I did.”  The words were cautious, slow.  “It was not what I expected.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You going to talk to her again, right?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Straightening with a sigh, Liara crosses her arms and regards Zahra with a weary kind of expression.  “I am not sure.  Why do you ask?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The back of her head itches, right where her amp is.  It buzzes.  It’s doing that a lot lately.  Like she’s building up charge faster than she can bleed it off.  Makes her skin prickle.  She shrugs</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>“No reason.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Breaking through the wreckage of the turian frigate, a Harvester dropped husks and worse in her path.  Those fucking things, she </span>
  <em>
    <span>hated</span>
  </em>
  <span> those fucking things.  Pulling her hand back in a claw, she lashed out, a concentrated mass effect field hurtling toward the Harvester, and exploding like a biotic grenade on impact.  The flare of it seared the backs of her eyes, and she blinked through the flash with a mad grin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Some warning, next time!” Garrus chided.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dios, Lola, you like blinding me?” Vega groused.  Zahra bounced on her toes, because this.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>This</span>
  </em>
  <span> was living.  Not worrying about pointless— </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Traynor blanches at the mess of datapads on her desk.  She hadn’t always been like this.  Had managed to keep things tidy once upon a time, on another ship.  It had been another life.  Literally.  “How many reports are unfiled?”  Zahra shrugs, because it's somewhere between all and most of them, and she isn’t sure if it really matters at this point, all the paperwork.  But Traynor’s face is set in a grim sort of determination and she dives in head first.  Good kid, she doesn’t balk, even if she flinched—</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Boots hit the ground of Tuchanka with a heavy thud, and she stood tall.  Time to pay for it all.  Wrex simmered with purpose in the Hollows, but Eve, Eve rallied the krogan to her like a queen.  Like the song Mordin had sung to her.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra exhaled slowly, fixing the Reaper in her sights, and the haze cleared from the corners of her vision.  The world stopped shifting.  Clarity, or something like it, settled over her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Time to fight.  Time to live.  Time to be Zahra fucking Shepard.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For whatever that was worth.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Sacrifice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>To quote another BioWare game, "In death, sacrifice."  Zahra witnesses the sacrifices of others and knows her turn will come soon enough.</p><p>Feels warning for Tuchanka and Citadel II missions.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Zahra worked the action of her shotgun and fired into the suspended mass of bodies that illusive son of a bitch threw onto the planet.  To her left, EDI overloaded shields, and the spark arced from one body to the next.  Liara reached out a clawed hand and ripped one of the soldiers to atoms.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The field was clear, and Victus—the kid, Tarquin—was cursing over the comms.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Head down, shoulders back, arms wide, Zahra picked a point back up on the platform and hurled herself through space in a blue crona.  She cracked through the world and landed hard, ozone tickling her nose, the taste of rain on her tongue, and blood pounding in her ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He dangled off the edge, long legs swinging free with nothing under them.  The first lock fell soundlessly into the abyss below.  Static crackled behind her, and she whirled.  A Cerberus helmet appeared in her field of view.  She pressed the muzzle of her shotgun to it and pulled the trigger.  The helmet broke apart in a spray of flesh and tech, red blood and blue wires.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Victory,” Tarquin muttered.  His comms were still on.  She watched, could only watch, as he pulled the second lock free.  “At any cost.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he fell.  Fell with the bomb that would have killed billions.  One life for so, so many more.  One life gone, snuffed out in the ruins of his own failure, of his </span>
  <em>
    <span>people’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>failure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The crack in her chest held together, held together like burning solder, fused and yellow-hot.  Her voice was a snarl, a whip crack as she snapped at Wrex and Victus both for clinging to old bones.  Old bones replaced by new bones, bones they couldn’t even claim.  She rubbed at a spot on her breastbone, and tried not to think about the next mission, about what sacrifice might be needed next.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zahra threw her weight forward, a mass of dark energy building black and blue in her hand.  Arm drawn back, she snapped it forward like pitching a baseball over center, hard and fast, it struck strue.  The brute reared back and she skidded around it and up the stairs to where the maw hammer waited. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A shield of black metal slammed down in front of her, shaking the stones of the platform down to its foundations.  She slid to a stop and glanced behind her.  Vega and Garrus were holding their own, keeping the brutes off her back, and the attack wing made another pass.  Reaper distracted, Zahra reached the hammer and activated it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The beat drummed her bones, rattled her whole body, every last part of her.  The thresher maw, and holy fuck, she was using a thresher maw like an attack dog.  A phantom acid burn ate at her side, where a maw’s spit had eaten away armor and marked skin.  Medi-gel never did match darker skin tones quite right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the middle of Kalros’s fury, Zahra ran for the Shroud.  Mordin would need her help to get there.  She’d have to cover him.  Because something else was going to go wrong.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She leapt over the open gap and landed hard.  Her knees jarred at the impact, but the stabilizers in her legs had her upright in no time.  Running, she followed the red and white flash of Mordin’s armor to the Shroud.  Fires blazed all the way up, and ice sank into her stomach, crawled up her guts into the space behind her ribs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eyes like black mirrors reflected her own face back to her, a pained resignation on her sharp features.  But Mordin, Mordin got into that elevator with a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zahra could understand what he had to smile about, but all she could do was stare into the cure-laden sky with unfocused eyes.  </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The black boxes inside of her, the cybernetics, were blackholes, eating up the parts of her that could feel.  Nothing could escape, unless it was going fast enough, unless she was going fast enough.  But she wasn’t moving now.  She was in the hospital again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her trigger finger itched, and if she could shoot Udina again she would.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All the rest of it could wait, the stand off, the losses, the traitors.  Because Thane had asked for his oxygen mask to be removed and he couldn’t finish his own prayer.  Kolyat bent his head and recited, like the priests, apparently.  Zahra could see the peace that brought him, to see his son no longer disconnected.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been so long since she prayed.  The last time, the last time she had been too young to question God or the point of prayer at all.  But Kolyat made the offer, and she couldn’t say no.  Couldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  The prayer had a cadence to it she could remember, her mother’s voice, her sister’s voices, reciting words over five thousand years old, the ritual passed down through the centuries, a comfort against the inevitable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was no comfort here, not for her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If she had only been faster, had thrown herself at that </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking</span>
  </em>
  <span> assassin.  Red-hot anger frothed in her throat at the thought of that son of a bitch, but she pushed it down, away.  Thane didn’t deserve for her to be angry, not here, not now.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her hands curled around the cold metal of the bedrail, and she watched as Thane sighed his last.  The sacrifice of his life had saved the Citadel.  Had saved her.  Some dry, glacial part of her noted it down clinically.  Just another life lost in the long line of soldiers marching to their deaths.  If she added them all up, they would stretch into infinity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But another part of her, the part of her that got back up and squeezed Kolyat’s shoulder and told him to tell her if he needed anything, couldn’t help but see everyone who wasn’t getting back up.  Everyone who had laid down their lives already.  The line kept passing her by, and she wondered how much longer it would take to get to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because she didn’t think she was getting out of this one alive.  Not this time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be seeing you, Thane,” she whispered as she left.  “Across the sea.  You and everyone else we’ve lost.”  Where the traveller never tired, where the lover never left, where her family waited, where her friends and old squadmates might just be.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Where she wouldn’t be alone anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And there was a peace in that, the thing Thane had given her even when she hadn’t realized it back before the Collector Base.  Peace with the death she had come out the other side of, and peace with the death that was staring her down.  Because when the time came, when she had to lay down her life, she would do it for victory, she would do it with a smile, and then maybe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe this time the peace would stick.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Across</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After the attempted coup on the Citadel, Zahra tries to cope with losing Thane.  Help comes from an unexpected quarter.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Zahra shivered, the water from the shower running cold.  She should get out.  Hypothermia from her own fucking shower wouldn’t be the best way to go out.  EDI might just decide to investigate, too.  EDI noticed little things like this; she noticed everything, and wasn’t that why the water was freezing her whole body felt twisted up and wrung out?  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t red-black fury coming back up like bad medicine after she’d pushed it down.  It wasn’t remembering the last sigh of a man now dead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have to put it away, Shepard.”  Her voice was raw, and she swiped at her still-running nose.  With a twist, the water shut off, the last dregs draining away.  Teeth chattering, she wrapped a towel around herself and ran a hand through her sopping wet hair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was going to be a bitch to deal with.  She should cut it short—it had been short since Basic and Cerberus had shaved her head to install all those black box implants—but she couldn’t bring herself to chop it all away.  There was another towel in the cupboards, and she squeezed as much water as she could out of her hair.  “Easy enough to put it up, don’t get so fussy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was so quiet in her cabin.  The stars twinkled white and clear and unblemished through the blue haze of the mass effect envelope that surrounded the ship.  A skylight in a war frigate.  Stupid.  Pointless.  The geth were right: a point of structural weakness.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She loved it.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lying back on the bed, she stared up at the stars.  A whole sea of them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was an old song, something about the sea.  Dad had loved old songs, old mid-20th century stuff.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Somewhere… beyond the sea.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was it.  What was the tune?  Zahra hummed a few bars only to grimace at her complete musical ineptitude.  But the single line bounced into another, and she whispered, “Somewhere, waiting for me, my lover stands on golden sands, and watches the ships… as they go... sailing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The stars blurred, and she blinked rapidly.  But there was no stopping another round of tears dredged up from a churning stomach.  Curling in on herself, she stuffed her knuckle in her mouth and bit down.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The door chime woke her up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra stretched on the bed, her towels kicked off and her hair a damned rat’s nest.  Grumbling, she levered herself up and glared around for </span>
  <em>
    <span>clothes</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door chimed again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Why the fuck did those chimes sound so cheerful?  They were </span>
  <em>
    <span>hateful</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  Sliding off the bed, she stumbled for her locker and ignored the fucking thing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shepard?  You got some time?  I’ve got my transfer forms we have to cross sign.  Gotta love the Alliance.  Galaxy ending war, but let’s keep up with the paperwork.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her head thumped against the cool bulkhead.  All the dry-mouth, scratchy-eye delight of a hangover without any of the blessed oblivion of drinking.  Scrubbing her face dry, she sat up and cleared her throat.  “Gimme a minute, Kaidan.  Just got out of the shower.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright.”  He said it so patiently, it made her wonder.  Did waiting seem stupid to him?  Wasn’t like they hadn’t seen all they had before.  And they were square.  Now.  With a grimace, she hopped into her BDUs and pulled on her top.  Her hair was still wet, so she let it be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on in,” she called.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stepped into her cabin, datapad in hand, and like the Marine he was he scoped out the room.  Then he glanced to her with a smirk on lips with a, “This is ni—” only to frown at the sight of her.  Frowning at her.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Again</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  Like she’d crossed some line he couldn’t.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Again</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  Her fingers curled into fists, and the static of her biotics hummed over her skin.  Then he said, “Zahra, what’s wrong?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her chest constricted painfully, and her hands went limp at her side.  Damn him.  Damn his eyes.  Damn his voice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She shook her head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Personal.  Not something you want to talk about, I’m sure.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can be the judge of that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Kaidan.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Zahra</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  See?  I can do it, too.”  She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.  He set the pad down and met her gaze steadily.  “It’s Thane, isn’t it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The muscles in her jaw jumped, she was clenching her teeth together so hard.  “Like I said, not something I figure you’d want to talk about.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about what </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> need to talk about?”  She waved her hand dismissively.  “And don’t say it doesn’t matter; it does.  You step back on this ship and you’re the Commander.  I </span>
  <em>
    <span>get</span>
  </em>
  <span> that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Damn</span>
  </em>
  <span> his voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess you do, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Major</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She kicked a chair out for him, and she sat heavily on her couch.  Leather chairs, a couch, for fuck’s sake.  The old SR-1 had a standard set of chairs around a bolted down table.  How many talks had she and Kaidan had at that table?  Mission objective, personnel compliments, giving Tali a primer on human boys, planning a long trip away that had never happened.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’d died before— </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” she bit out as tears ran down her face again.  Kaidan shifted forward but caught himself.  But those eyes, damn those eyes that </span>
  <em>
    <span>saw</span>
  </em>
  <span> her.  Commander and woman both, neither less for the other.  Hadn’t he promised her that?  Nothing less than what she was, but more than the sum of her parts?  “I’m going to tear that fucking Cerberus assassin apart.”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll make sure the field is clear before you do,” he promised.  Her grey eyes met his brown, and she knew he would.  A knot of tension unwound in her chest, and all the things she’d never said or even thought too loud floated to the surface.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not losing him that hurts.  It’s not even him going out like he did.  I know, I know that dying to </span>
  <em>
    <span>protect</span>
  </em>
  <span> someone; that was the best end he saw for himself.  I’m—I can be glad for him, that he got that.  No, I knew it was coming.”  She glared at a point past him, past the bulkhead and into space, as if she could go back in time and shake the stupid girl she’d been.  Shake the idiot who never learned until it was too late.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“After Mars.  I thought I’d lost you.  That mech, it nearly killed you.  And all I could see was you getting your head smashed against a shuttle.  Again, and again, and again.  And I.  I ran right through that hospital to your room, and when you were awake?  God, the rest of the world didn’t exist.  I just had to see you, had to know you were gonna be okay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Zee, I didn’t—well, I’m alright.  I’m here.  But, what’s this got to do with Thane?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You saw him in the hospital, coughing himself to death by inches.  We talked about you, and I.  I couldn’t let you go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How, uh, how did he take it?”  She searched his face for any hint, any suggestion he was glad Thane was gone, but all she saw was concern etched into the lines of his face.  The wrinkles in the corners of his eyes, the way his black eyebrows arched up, and the quiet of his voice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The ghost of white at his temples. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He said he’d watch over you.  For me.  That’s why he was always around.”  The aquarium's steady, soothing glow let her eyes go out of focus.  She wasn’t drell, she couldn’t remember her whole life perfectly, but she couldn’t forget the acceptance on Thane’s face.  Acceptance.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe he had understood.  If his wife had come back to him, would she have held it against him if he’d gone running to her?  No.  Not in the slightest.  But that didn’t mean it wouldn’t sting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The thing, the thing that </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurts</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” she said thickly, “is that I never, I never told him.  I never told him I loved him.  But that’s me all over.”  Her laughter was thin and brittle.  “Don’t know what I love until it’s gone.  Only know what I had by the hole it left behind.  My family, my home, my squad, Ash, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  Twice, you.  Even Mordin, the mad scientist that he was.  And now Thane.  Thane who died not knowing, not knowing—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think he knew.”  Kaidan’s voice was barely above a whisper and soft against her skin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She leaned back and kicked her legs up on the table.  Arms crossed again.  “You think so?  How the hell do people know that unless you tell them?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shrugged, broad shoulders rolled with certainty she didn’t feel.  “You just do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s like everyone got a software patch but me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His laughter swept away the brittle glass of her hurt, soothing the jagged cuts that her failure to Thane had left behind.  She scrubbed her hand over her face and fought down a grin.  “Aw, Zee, you never could do anything the easy way.  Not for yourself at least.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Story of my fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>life</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Kay.”  She rolled her eyes and slumped further into the couch like a grumpy teenager.  There was still an ache behind her breastbone, but the searing heat of it ebbed away.  Her fingers pressed at her sternum.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he said quietly.  “I know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not much else to say, Zahra let her eyes go out of focus again.  Kaidan sat still as anything opposite her, and for a second, for one tiny sliver of time, she was okay.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then she signed the stupid, fucking paperwork.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Classic Sinatra, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oH6mw2Rc3DQ">Somewhere Beyond the Sea</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Pressed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Because I wanted to re-write the Shepard and Balak interaction on the Citadel to better fit my Shepard with the Colonist background and her choice on X57.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The barrel of the gun pressed against her chest.  A cold hollow circle of metal that dug into the fabric of her shirt, would leave a mark on her skin.  Could she lean forward just a little bit more?  Carve the circle of death right into her breastbone.  If that was still bone.  Hard to remember where the metal and the bone were, which was which.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Balak’s finger tightened on the trigger.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go on, do it,” Zahra urged.  Four eyed species, always hard to know which set of eyes to glare at.  Zahra fixed on the lower ones and pulled her lips back in a snarl.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Out and back, here and there.  People always needing something.  Come find me in the bar, help me put down this terrorist.  Verner.  Conrad </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking</span>
  </em>
  <span> Verner still out and about and making a mess.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She tried not to think about the fact that Jenna saved his life.  Or the shrine he claimed was tasteful.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kill me, and one by one they all get picked off.  You think your people will be spared?  No one’s getting out of this, Balak.  Not a fucking one of us,” she growled.  Not even her.  Did she want to?  After everything, maybe.  Maybe not.  There was no good footing on the deck of the Normandy, it was a fight to just keep God damned standing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And someone always wanted more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Half a squeeze on that trigger.  Oh so close.  Maybe she’d get a barrier up in time, but maybe not.  Maybe the plates in her chest would stop the bullet.  Or it would sheer right through her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m all you have left, Balak.”  The harsh whisper of her voice barely made it past her lips, and the wires in her face burned.  He knew her tells, knew to look for a closed fist, but the scent of ozone filled her nose.  “So you got a choice.  You join us and get the fuck in line, or you die.  Alone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I could kill you,” he growled.  “I could do it right now.”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra shifted her weight forward just a touch more.  The barrel of the gun shook.  A metallic rattle of uncertainty.  God she could kill him right now, too.  They could tear each other apart and turn this part of the Citadel into a blast zone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Four black, pitiless eyes glared right back at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His scream of rage was one that echoed into the depths of her.  But he raised the gun up at the ceiling and stalked away.  “Our ships are yours,” he spat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The agent, Zahra had forgotten the woman’s name already, rushed up all breathless and worried.  “Commander, are you alright?  Do you want us to apprehend him?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There would have been a time.  A time.  On X57 over the fragile blue and green of Terra Nova.  When she had slammed her fist into the ground and damn near bit Ashley’s head off.  When Ash and Kaidan both had been witness to the oozing, black rot of an old wound had burst open.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She rubbed at her breastbone, where the gun had dug in.  “No,” she said flatly.  “Let him go.  I’ve got other work to do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The bitter pall in her mouth made her grimace.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Trajectory</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kaidan has to adjust to life back on board the Normandy, but its not the same ship, and no one is quite the same as he remembers.  And while he tries to reach out to Zahra, Zahra... makes things harder on herself than she has to.</p>
<p>Hopefully this is the start of a Kaidan characterization that feels like much more of a natural outgrowth of his ME1 self instead of what we got.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Kaidan couldn’t help but feel the eyes on him as he made a tour of the ship.  The familiar faces were welcome, Dr. Chakwas and Adams, but he earned a sour look from Vega and pointed cracks from Joker.  Witnesses to his less than stellar moments.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But when he’d seen the memorial wall.  Seeing that, he’d had to stop and get his breath back that first time.  There was a crystal set next to Ashley’s name, and he’d seen Zahra’s—</span>
  <em>
    <span>Shepard’s</span>
  </em>
  <span>—hand in that.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had almost heard Ash, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’ve made a hell of a mess of things, LT</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he’d whispered to the ghost of an old friend, “yeah, I did.”  Then he’d found the emptiness of starboard observation and flung his duffel bag down.  Travelling light, he’d told her.  That was part of it.  No other option was another.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was back.  Back on the Normandy, the SR-2.  Where Zahra—</span>
  <em>
    <span>Shepard—</span>
  </em>
  <span>had lived eight months of her life under Cerberus colors.  Was a hell of a ship, but he couldn’t shake the sense that the SR-1 had been better.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Though the SR-2 had a working galley, so maybe he could cook real food.  Hadn’t been a promise, not exactly, but there had been an intention, once.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kaidan?  I hope I’m not interrupting.” Liara’s soft voice broke him out of his reverie, and he smiled to see her.  Whatever she’d been up to, she wasn’t the girl who wrung her hands and hesitated before she fired anymore. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not all, just daydreaming about real food on a ship is all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” she agreed with a fond kind of smile. “I remember your valiant efforts to make the prepackaged meals edible.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Getting the sense you don’t want to talk to me about that, though.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not entirely, no.  Would you mind coming to my office?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have an office?” he asked dryly.  The barest grin told him that she was proud of it, but that there was something else on her mind.  Kaidan had three guesses as to what, or rather whom, that would be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That Garrus was already in Liara’s office just confirmed what Kaidan already knew.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey Garrus.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kaidan.  Good to have you back.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good to be back, but why don’t you both tell me what this is about?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Garrus’s flanges twitched, and Laira shifted.  Uncomfortable.  Got it in one, Alenko.  He sighed.  “It’s about Shepard, isn’t it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, it’s,” Liara trailed off.  She held Garrus’s gaze and spread her hands.  Like she was helpless.  “She’s doing the job, but she isn’t sleeping, barely eating, and when we ask, when we try to help, she evades it.  We don’t know what to do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you think I can help?  Might’ve missed it, but I don’t know where I stand with her.  Hell, I don’t think</span>
  <em>
    <span> she</span>
  </em>
  <span> knows where I stand.  I’m here, but she’s in shock, or as close to shock as Zahra Shepard ever gets.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think she’s right in the middle of it.  Look, Kaidan, you weren’t here, and I’m not saying that to take potshots at you, but you haven’t seen her up close for a while.  I have.  And I’d be the first to admit that last year, with Cerberus, none of us really kept an eye on her.  We were all so wrapped up in our own heads.” Garrus sighed and glared into the middle distance.  Like he was glaring at his past self.  Kaidan could understand that.  Better than most.  “Maybe only Samara and—Samara and Thane might have noticed.  She wasn’t in a good place, and I don’t know if she’s ever come back from that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I got that impression yeah, but like you said, Garrus, I wasn’t here.  I wasn’t.  Look, I’m just wondering what you think I can do about any of this?”  Arms crossed over his chest, like he could hold back the ache centered there, dam up the pressure that threatened to spill out.  He should have been here, he should have been here and seen what she’d gone through.  God, what had he done?  What had he </span>
  <em>
    <span>missed</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ashley would kick his ass for sure, if she were here.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She always listened to you,” Liara said, something like her old eagerness back in her face.  Looking at him like he could fix it.  Fix Zahra.  That was the thing, though.  There was no </span>
  <em>
    <span>fixing</span>
  </em>
  <span> Zahra Shepard.  She wasn’t broken, even if she kept trying to find ways to break herself.  It was getting her stop.  That was the trick.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t know if he could do that anymore.  If she’d let him stop her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That was three years ago,” he demurred.  There was a handy window for him to stare out of, the stars streaming past in gleaming silence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, but that does not mean she will not listen to you now.  You, Goddess, you had no idea what it was like, do you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I watched you and her, you know, on the first Normandy.  Academic training, observe what you don’t understand.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He winced.  “Liara, look—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s fine.  I’m fine.  She was right, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> young.  When I thought about her, I saw what I wanted to see.  Larger than life.  She strode into my life and shook it upside down without quite knowing what she was doing.  But seeing the two of you, together, it wasn’t what I had pictured.  You made her laugh, and when she was upset or worried, she would look right to you.  Always you.  You saw </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Kaidan, and I think she knew the value of that.  I think she still knows the value of someone who doesn’t see the Commander or the mission.  You see </span>
  <em>
    <span>Zahra</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I saw her, but we’re both different people that we were three years ago.  Liara, I get that you’re both worried about her.  I am too, but have you considered that I might just make it worse after all this?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t know if it can get worse, Kaidan.”  Garrus fixed him with a bright, sniper’s eye.  Dead to rights.  Those stars called to him, that black void.  Running his hand over the stubble on his chin, he knew it could get worse.  It could get a lot worse.  Being with Zahra, with Zee, God it had been a whirlwind.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>She</span>
  </em>
  <span> was a whirlwind.  Head on, no backing out, all or nothing, take it or leave it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that was the trouble.  There was no getting close to her without getting pulled in all over again.  There had never been any holding back.  Not with her.  Seeing her on Earth that day, he’d thought he was ready to go all in, but faced with it now, he shied like a skittish horse.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Could he face losing her again?  He knew the answer to that already.  There was another question, though.  One that cut a whole lot deeper.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>LT, if you don’t go for it, you’re gonna kick yourself for the rest of your life.  There’s more than one way to lose out.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he said softly.  “I know.”  Stood up straight and rolled his shoulders.  “Alright, I’ll do what I can to help her.  But if she throws me across the ship, I’m blaming you both.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She’s more likely to charge you, these days,” Garrus drawled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And then punch you,” Liara added sagely.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kaidan huffed, the memory of watching her hurl herself at Cerberus soldiers a vivid, heartstopping thing.  Her field had cracked on his, sharp and faster than lightning.  A shot straight down his spine that he always wanted more of.  “Yeah, I know that, too.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Coffee?”  The burr of his voice was the same.  Zahra glanced up from her datapads.  She should be going over rosters and reports in her quarters.  There was a desk up there, and it was quiet.  Out of the way.  But then, she wouldn’t get questions like that in her quarters.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She set the datapad down and glanced up.  Kaidan stood across the table from her, two mugs already in hand.  So, it was like that.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure,” she said, keeping her tone neutral.  What was wrong with her?  No, don’t go down that rabbit hole.  She wanted him back on board, had agreed to it.  Had kept trying on Mars to reach him, and in spite of everything, in spite of it all.  They kept doing this dance, forward and back, like binary stars in unstable orbit.  Now, though there was something off, the vector was all wrong.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sat, not exactly invited, not exactly told to go away.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra curled her fingers around the mug and breathed in the heady scent of what some called her over sugared and too creamed coffee.  It was just the way she liked it.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So.”  He worked his shoulders, that not quite shrug.  Her leg bounced on its own accord.  The quiet of dogwatch surrounded them.  Once, they’d shared companionable silences.  On the SR-1 when the drumming beat of chasing Saren kept her up, kept them both up.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What kept him up now?  Other than the voice-crushing reality of the end of everything?  She supposed that’d do it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Something on your mind, Kaidan?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The ghost of a smile curved his mouth.  He rubbed a stubble-rough chin, and that was still strange to her eyes.  Always had kept himself inspection ready.  Joker was the one with the non-regulation beard no one cared about.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A few things, but I’m not here to bend your ear.  Just thought you could use some company.  Looks like you got quite a backlog there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” she muttered as a grimace pulled at her lips.  “Figured I shouldn’t actually dump it all on Traynor.  Good kid, has enough to do without cleaning up after me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Probably a good idea.”  His tone was dry, but the glimmer of humor in his face was clear enough for her to read.  “But if you don’t mind me staying, well.  Happy to be here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Grey eyes narrowed over the rim of the mug.  The trajectory of this conversation was strange.  Strange, and she couldn’t put her finger on it.  “Well,” she said slowly, “if you’re going to stay, you can check these for typos.  I don’t know who Hackett’s secretary is, but they’re a pedantic pain in the ass.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A brief chuckle of amusement broke the quiet as he pulled the stack of datapads to him.  “Then I’ll help keep him off your back.  I suppose that’s one thing your hamster can’t do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The pad she’d picked up fell from her fingers.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’d you say?” she asked, the crack of lightning in her voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, nothing?”  His breathing went dead even and his gaze flickered to the exits.  God </span>
  <em>
    <span>damn</span>
  </em>
  <span> it.  “Just something Garrus mentioned, that’s all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vector was off, trajectory was funny.  This wasn’t gravity or orbital mechanics.  He’d been put on his course, and not by himself.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who else has asked you to look in on me?  Liara?  Joker?  Chakwas?” she snapped.  The wires in her face heated up, tick-tick-ticking into vicious life.  His back went ramrod straight, and stubbornness made a muscle in his jaw twitch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’re worried about you, Zahra.”  The gravel in his voice deepened, a sharp edge to it.  “We all are.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So they sent you after me?  Like I need some kind of sitter?  If I wanted a watch, I’d just get Vega to do it again.  At least he doesn’t come at me all soft and pretend.”  Teeth clicked together, the rest of it shut behind a closed mouth.  Glaring at him down the line of her hawkish nose, her chest rose and fell like she’d run ten miles and ozone filled her nose.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The bitter twist of Kaidan’s mouth was at war with the aching in his space-dark eyes.  “No one,” he croaked, “said anything about pretending, Zee.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stood, the tenuous thread stretching between them.  They had been good in the hospital, bad on the Presidium.  Good in her cabin, bad in the mess.  It was all a mess.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her hand latched onto his wrist, his skin just a touch cooler than hers.  Like she remembered.  Skin to skin, field to field.  His gaze tracked up from where she held him to meet her eyes.  Hadn’t she told him she loved him already?  Why the fuck was this so hard?  What did she have to lose?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Except the too few pieces of her that remained after Cerberus cut the dead parts out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I still need help,” she said, nodding to the datapads.  “With the reports.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he allowed with a long, slow sigh as he sat back down.  “I suppose you do.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Rebuild</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Returning to Eden Prime and seeing how it was rebuilt, it made Zahra start to rethink a few things.</p>
<p>Getting to punch Cerberus goons in the face doesn't hurt, either.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Zahra dug the toes of her boots into the ground, blue corona flickering, cracking over her skin, buzzing in her teeth.  Ozone filled her helmet, but it was different than usual.  A bitter tang to it.  An echo of the Prothean vids that had beamed into her brain.  What was another Prothean mind-fuck at this point?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But that didn’t matter right now.  Right now she had Cerberus troops to keep away from the pod.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her target suddenly staggered, curling around his middle as dark energy ripped him to bits.  Good of Kaidan to set her up, was her last thought before her field crashed into that ugly grey armor, and into the lingering riptide pull of Kaidan’s reave.  The world turned blue-white, mass effect fields collapsing into and exploding outward in a burning torrent of destruction that sparked over her skin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Destruction had come to Eden Prime twice now, and twice because of Prothean tech.  The Reapers wanted the beacon, wanted the last Prothean.  From the first, when she’d had   Lieutenant Alenko at her back, his field carefully not touching her own until she pulled him away from the beacon.  That first crack and clash against her skin before she’d been grabbed by the scruff of her neck and shaken down to nothing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It would not be the first time.  Or the last.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She reared up and slammed her fist into the ground, sending a shockwave out, tripping up the idiots trying to close with her.  Her fist connected to one helmet, and a scream rose up behind her.  Swinging her shotgun around, she unloaded with complete negligence.  Didn’t need to aim with the spray she set.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then it was quiet.  All that was left was to open the pod.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She took one last look around at Eden Prime.  Where it had all started.  Where nothing would ever be the same again.  But that was her life all over.  Drifting from one thing to the next, one wreckage left behind after the next.  Disaster to disaster, from losing everything on Mindoir, to Akuze, to </span>
  <em>
    <span>dying</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cerberus had rebuilt her body, but didn’t do jack shit about her soul.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The soul of Eden Prime had been through too much, the scars would stick, even if they all survived this fucking war.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shepard.”  Liara’s soft voice broke through her off kilter thoughts.  Was still hard to get everything in a row in her head when she wasn’t moving, but it wasn’t all a blur.  At least not right now.  “Are you ready?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, coming,” she said, trotting to where Liara stood.  Right next to the pod.  Her hand hovered over the lid, and a spark ran up her spine and into her head, her amp buzzing.  More than buzzing, ramping up from that, the back of her mouth tasted funny, and then— </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a hand on her shoulder and she breathed out, the surge of her field bleeding away like an unstoppered drain.  She turned.  Kaidan watched her with dark, concerned eyes.  “Sorry, I know I should’ve warned you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s alright,” she said thickly.  Blue helmet tilted at her in wry disbelief.  “Really, it is.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The ghost of a smile curved her lips, and for a second, for just a second with Liara nearly bouncing with excitement about a Prothean find, and Kaidan’s quiet gravity pulling her into a stable orbit, it was the same again.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe some things could be rebuilt.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Owed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Zahra doesn't like Javik, and the feeling is mutual.  But talking to him, Zahra comes to another realization about herself.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“You do not like me, Commander.”  Javik’s four eyes regarded her in the hazy dimness of the port hold.  Yellow and angry.  Goat’s eyes, full of equal parts disdain and rage.  The rage she could understand, how it lived just behind clenched teeth and rattled in a ribcage that felt too tight and too empty at the same time.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra shrugged.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Didn’t think you cared about being liked,” she said.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tilted his head at her, a smile without mirth baring his too-sharp canines at her.  Grassland hunters.  Like humans in a way, but pure predators where humans had been hunters and gatherers.  For all his talk of eating salarian livers or turians or whatever, that was just bluster.  She knew bluster.  No, it was how he moved his head like a big cat’s, how he scented the air of every place they went to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If he never wandered the Citadel again, it would be too soon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do not.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then why bring it up?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You forget, Commander, I have read you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And that,” she snapped, “is why I don’t like you.”  Teeth gritted together, the wires in her face burned, and Zahra glared at the Prothean.  Fingers curled into fists, she exhaled sharply.  “Three years ago, thanks to your people, I got my brain scrambled.  Haven’t been able to unscramble it since, and you come along and read me?  Bull-fucking-shit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Broad head raised proudly, like a lion with a mane.  “Ah, the truth comes out at last.  You can be angry with me all you like, Commander, but I am not the one responsible for the changes the Beacons wrought upon you.  No matter your feelings, I will not let you use your anger to keep me from this fight.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So that’s it, you just want to fight?  Fine, next drop, you can come along.  It’s on Noveria, and it’s going to be cold as fuck.  How do Protheans handle the cold?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We are.”  His teeth clacked together, lip curling in a snarl.  “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Were</span>
  </em>
  <span> a highly adaptable species.  This fight, it was mine thousands of years before it was yours.  I am.  It is what is owed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Owed?  You’re owed this fight?  That’s what you think?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” he said, as heavy as lead.  “It is what </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> owe, Commander.  What I owe my people.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And here I thought you spat on the notion of honor.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Honor belongs only to the dead.  The living can only exact vengeance, and I will not let you deny my people theirs.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Thou owest God a death,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” she whispered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is that, Commander?”  Four eyes narrowed at her.  Zahra shook her head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing, just made me remember something.  That’s all.”  Javik’s expression was set in expectation of explanation.  The wires pulled under her skin as she smirked.  Could not tell him, leave him hanging.  Still didn’t like him, and yet.  “Dad would be so proud of this.  Never could remember the lines on tests, but I get my head scrambled and talk to you, and it comes back.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You speak in riddles, Commander.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Never mind,” she said quickly.  Tapping her fingers on her leg, she had to get out of the hold.  The haze smelled like dawn over the fields, and it was hard to believe she couldn’t reach out and touch the growing stalks of wheat.  Wheat that had fallen to rot in the fields on Mindoir.  “Doesn’t matter.  Just be ready for our drop, Javik, and you follow my orders.  You got it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I understand, Commander, and I will heed your orders in the field.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One last narrow eyed glare, she huffed.  “Good enough.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door hissed shut behind her, but the beat behind her eyes only threatened to get worse.  Working her jaw to loosen it, Zahra shook her legs out as she strode to the elevator trying not to think about how many times she had cheated death.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>About what she owed her people.  But for once, she wasn’t thinking about the dead.  The living were owed something, too.  They had to be, otherwise all she had was death.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And death wasn’t enough.  Not anymore.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The line "Thou owest God a death," is from Henry IV, Act 5, Scene 1, by good old Willy Shakes.</p>
<p>Said by Prince Hal to Falstaff regarding Falstaff's near miss.  After Prince Hal leaves, Falstaff has a little monologue of sorts:  "'Tis not due yet. I would be loath to pay Him before His day. What need I be so forward with Him that calls not on me? Well, ’tis no matter. Honor pricks me on. Yea, but how if honor prick me off when I come on? How then? Can honor set to a leg? no. Or an arm? no. Or take away the grief of a wound? No. Honor hath no skill in surgery, then? No. What is honor? A word. What is in that word “honor”? What is that “honor”? Air. A trim reckoning. Who hath it? He that died o' Wednesday. Doth he feel it? No. Doth he hear it? No. 'Tis insensible, then? Yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the living? No. Why? Detraction will not suffer it. Therefore, I’ll none of it. Honor is a mere scutcheon. And so ends my catechism."</p>
<p>I like the notion that Zahra, with her love of military history and thus her enjoyment of some of Shakespeare's histories, would draw a weird connection between Javik and Falstaff's most famous lines.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Crew</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>They're her crew.   What crew means, what Zahra doesn't say it really is, is family.  And she's starting to get hers back.  For real this time.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Commander,” Traynor chimed.  Zahra slowed her step and let the young woman catch up to her.  “There are several emails on your terminal, and a few of the crew have asked if you could spare some time to meet them on the Citadel, and.”  Her mouth shut with a click as Zahra held up her hand.</p><p>“I get it, Traynor, and thanks for letting me know.  I’ll.”  A grimace almost made its way onto her face.  Squared her shoulders and stood up straight.  “I’ll see what I have time for.  We can’t stay here too long.”</p><p>“Of course not, Commander.  I shouldn’t have brought those concerns forward.  I should keep my focus on the communications, I know.”</p><p>Zahra rocked back on her heels and resisted the urge to sigh.  Couldn’t get mad at the kid.  She was only trying to help.  Only trying to do the best she could.  </p><p>“Traynor,” Zahra said, interrupting the verbal flow.  “Passing on information from the crew <em> is </em> doing your job.  You’re doing good.  Look, why don’t you find something fun to do on the Citadel while we’re in dock?”</p><p>“Oh!  I, uh, wouldn’t know where to begin, Commander.”  In the dimness of the CIC, Traynor’s gaze slid away, a tinge of embarrassment on her cheeks.</p><p>“Just don’t let Vega take you somewhere.  Go with Cortez, he’ll look after you.”</p><p>“Right, that’s smart.  Go with a friend.  Is there someone, you know what?  Never mind.  I’ll go talk to Steve then, shall I?  And try to keep Lieutenant Vega from inviting himself along.”</p><p>“Have fun, kid,” Zahra said softly, watching Traynor head to the elevator.  Someone should enjoy themselves while they were here.</p><p><em> Ten deep breaths, Zee </em>.</p><p>God knew it wasn’t going to be her.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“You sure you want me here for this?”</p><p>Sarah Williams turned around.  She didn’t look much like Ashely.  Same brown hair, brown eyes, but more delicate.  Sarah, Zahra’s memory jogged, the girl who had the boyfriend who wanted to go too far.  And had kicked his ass for it.  </p><p>“I, uh.  I didn’t want to do this alone, and when I heard you were out here, I hoped, well.  I hoped you’d be willing to come.”  Tears stood out in her eyes, and the crusty marks of previous crying jags stood out on her cheeks.</p><p>Because Ashley wasn’t here.  Because Ashley had died over three years ago on Virmire saving the Normandy.  Saving them all.  </p><p>Sarah bit her lip, a picture held in her hands.  Zahra glanced down.  He was a bright looking kid in uniform.  Even after losing her sister, Sarah had fallen for someone in blue.</p><p>There had been another picture, a picture still saved somewhere deep in her files.  One she had looked at once and never again, the old crew around a table with greasy food on the Citadel after a crazy girl’s night out.  When smiling had been something that didn’t hurt.</p><p>Zahra jolted herself back to the present, wondering what Sarah knew of her.  Why the kid had reached out to her at all.  Just the vid message she had sent after Ashley’s funeral.  Maybe a little more, but it couldn’t have been much.  Ashley had sent home message after message, and what was in them, Zahra would never know.  But an older sister was gone from Sarah Williams’s life, and Zahra.  Zahra squeezed the young woman’s shoulder.</p><p>“You had family on my ship, that makes you part of the crew, Sarah.  All you had to do was ask,” she whispered under the din of the holding area.  There was no peace in the refugee areas, but there were pockets of stillness, pockets of silence.  Last time she had been here, Cortez had needed a friend, and she had mustered up something like it.  This time, a young woman needed a sister, and Zahra.  Maybe Zahra would do.  “Take your time.”</p><p>“Yeah, I will.  I just,” Sarah stuttered, and sighed out a portion of sorrow, a measure of loss.  “I miss him so much, but right now I miss her more.  I wish she was here, here to help me.”</p><p><em> They’re yours to protect, Zahra-ahuva </em>.</p><p>Zahra’s throat constricted.  “Yeah,” she said thickly, “me too.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“You aren’t angry?”  Miranda’s confusion was painted all over her face.  A laugh cracked against the inside of Zahra’s chest, and her cheeks twitched.  </p><p>“That would require me to be surprised,” she drawled.  The view outside the apartment was still less than idyllic.  Bullet holes still decorated the Presidium below.  At least the place didn’t smell of smoke anymore.  Arms crossed under her breasts, Miranda eyed her warily.  Defensive.  Zahra spread her hands.  “I could be angry with you, if that’d help.”</p><p>“Are you alright, Shepard?  You’re oddly calm about all this.”</p><p>“What do you want me to say?  You’ve already beat yourself up about this, and honestly, punching you wouldn’t be challenging enough to be fun.”</p><p>“Oh, is that how it is?”  Bright blue eyes narrowed, but a smile curved full lips under that perfect nose.  Crazy universe.  She had wanted to break that nose the first time she’d seen it.  Had wanted to break it for almost as long as she’d been forced to fly Cerberus colors.  Right until Miranda’s explosive resignation at the Collector Base.</p><p>“Yeah, it is.”  The truth stuck in her throat, but the truth wasn’t for Miranda, not now.  Maybe not ever.  Zahra jerked her head in a dismissal.  “Go on, you need to save your sister from whatever your father is up to.  And if you need anything, just—”</p><p>“Let you know?  I will, but I’m trying not to drag you into this more than I have to.  You have bigger things to worry about.”</p><p>The door hissed shut behind the other woman.  A former member of her crew.   Alone in the vacant apartment, Zahra let her gaze go out of focus as she looked out the window.</p><p><em> The one you feed, Zee. </em>  </p><p>“Time to make the rounds,” she said to herself, mellow voice barely audible to her own ears.  “For real this time.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Stomach rumbling, Zahra patted down her pockets for a powerbar and came up empty.  Right, the ones they had on the Normandy were standard issue and she hated them.  Someone, years ago, had spoiled her with the good stuff.  Hadn’t been able to look at the Alliance ones the same since.  Maybe now that he was back, he’d get them for her again.</p><p>She’d just have to do without, for just a little bit longer.  Barging in through the door to the C-Sec office, Zahra didn’t waste any time.  “Bailey, I need to borrow your assistant for a bit.”  </p><p>“Yeah, sure, Shepard.”  He waved his hand absently.  Kolyat sat at another desk, typing away.  “Just don’t keep him too long.”</p><p>“I won’t,” she said, crossing the office and leaning against the desk.  Kolyat met her eyes.  The sullen boy of a year ago wasn’t gone, not entirely.  Grief tightened his mouth and made him look at the world with eyes that were on the edge of hollow.</p><p>“Commander.”  He half stood, and she waved him to sit.  “What can I do for you?  Is there something you need to know?”</p><p>Took after his mother, she realized just then.  He didn’t look much like Thane.  Nose ridge and jaw were different.  Even his coloring was different.  What would that have been, to look at a kid and see only a dead wife?  </p><p>Zahra shook her head.  “Not here for me, kid.  I was reminded today that, that I haven’t been here for you, like I should have been.”</p><p>His lips thinned and shoulders rounded forward.  “I appreciate the thought, Commander, but Commander Bailey has helped me stay employed.  I don’t need you trying to be, I am not certain what you are trying to be, but I do not need another parent.” </p><p>“Kid, trust me, only thing I should parent is a krogan, and even then, I’m not sure how well he turned out.  I’m not here to be a mother-hen, I’m here to be a commander.  Your father was part of my crew, and that means you are too, in a way.  Anything I’d do for my crew, I’d do for you.”</p><p>And they didn’t take much.  Not really.  The parts of her that she’d thought dead and gone were still there.  There, but dormant.  Waking up again.  She had smiled when Garrus had made the shot, even though they both knew she was shit with sniper rifles.  It hadn’t felt like a rebuke to hear Liara talk about her mother.  Vega with his tattoo, Joker and EDI turning into a thing.  </p><p>It was almost like old times.  Real old times.  On the SR-1 when she had enough inside of her to share it.</p><p>Kolyat’s black gaze was fixed on his hands.  Seconds ticked by in silence, and Zahra waited.  Waited for the kid, because he was still a kid and deserved more than the shit he’d had to live through.  </p><p>“Trust me.”  He didn’t look up as she spoke quietly, but his head tilted toward her.  Just a bit.  “I know what it’s like to lose your parents, to lose the only family you thought you ever had.  Nothing can replace that, kid, I know that, too.  But you can find something else, if you want to.  Just think about that, alright?  And know you’re part of the Normandy.”</p><p>Gripping his shoulder as she passed him by, Zahra headed toward the door.  Bailey gave her a curious glance, but kept his mouth shut.  A chair scuffed across the floor, and a hand touched her arm.  She turned, and Kolyat looked up at her.  His mouth worked silently for a moment before he said, “I apologize, Commander.  You have only ever been kind to me, and my father.  My father prayed for you to find peace.  I was ungracious.”</p><p>Her chest was too tight for this, too tight and ready to crack.  </p><p>Damn these kids.</p><p>“Don’t have to apologize.  I wasn’t a prize either, after I lost my family.  It’s understandable.”</p><p>“Thank you, Commander,” he said, voice thick with unshed tears.</p><p>
  <em> Your sisters… landing… pad… go... </em>
</p><p>Zarah’s fingers curled around his shoulder, bunching up the fabric of his coat.  “You don’t have to say that to me, kid.  Not you, not ever.  You’re crew.  Crew doesn’t need thanks.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“What’s all this?” she asked.  The ship was quiet, leaving the Valhallan Threshold behind.  It was getting easier to keep track of where they were, where they had been, where they were going.  The blur had eased away from the edge of her vision, even if the back of her neck still tingled too much.</p><p>“Oh, just thought I’d see if this set up is any good,” Kaidan said over his shoulder.  The galley smelled like real food for once.  Garlic and tomato and meat.  Something simple, something real.</p><p>Vega leaned against the counter, beer in hand.  “Yeah, Major here says you all used to eat together, on the first Normandy.”</p><p>“We did.”  She kept her tone careful, cautious.  Kaidan was up to something.  The way he cocked his head to listen without turning around screamed it.</p><p>“Hey Major,” Cortez’s voice broke in.  “Found the pasta.  Don’t ask me where it was kept, you’re better off not knowing.”</p><p>“Did you have to really say that, because now, I’m curious, and yet don’t want to know,” Traynor remarked as she sidled around to sneak a spoonful of whatever Kaidan was cooking.  Not quite that shy a comm officer anymore, it seemed.  Kaidan’s field flared with a short, sharp crack, and Traynor pulled back her hand, mouth hanging open in shock. </p><p>“Ask, first,” Kaidan admonished, though not without a smile.  Traynor huffed and turned to Zahra, a plea for an appeal on her face.  Zahra spread her hands helplessly.</p><p>“Hey, you tried to sneak a bite and failed.  That’s on you.”   The commotion dragged Garrus out of the forward battery, and Liara out of her office.  And before Zahra knew quite what happened, she was telling Traynor how Ashley used to try to steal desserts, how Garrus used to bring guns to the table, and.</p><p>“Liara,” she said, spotting the datapad and pointing accusingly with her fork.  “No work at the table.  You remember the rules.”  Liara rolled her eyes, but put the pad away.  Across the table grey eyes caught brown, and Kaidan smiled.  That smile she knew was just for her.  Half shy, half sly, a question and an answer both in it.  Around them, the crew chatted.  Dinner with other people.  She hadn’t done that since.  Since the SR-1.  </p><p>Deliberately, she returned his smile, the skin of her face no longer aching every time she did that, and spooled up more spaghetti.  Then she shoved it into her mouth.</p><p>The shock and dismay from around the table was everything she’d ever wanted.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Touch</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After finding out what happened to Garneau, and the ten year mind whammy the people on Mahavid were under, Zahra decides to stop wasting time.</p>
<p>EDI notices and has questions.  Of course.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Ten years, damn,” Kaidan muttered.  Running a hand through his hair, he leaned against the shuttle window.  Zahra followed his gaze back to the mining facility.  It winked dully in the barely reflected light of the local star.  An Alliance cruiser was on its way to pick these people up.  Come back to the galaxy just in time to watch it fall apart.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I thought I had it rough after only two years.”  The view port’s transparent aluminium was cool on her forehead, soothing the building heat in the wires behind her face.  Such a thin thing to keep out the void of space.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But then, that was another thing she’d had rough.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kaidan glanced at her out the corner of his eyes, a low hum rumbling in his chest.  She knew exactly what that hum felt like.  Under her hands, pressed against her back, against her chest.  The latches on his armor were within reach.  Wouldn’t take long to get him out of that armor and—no, Zee, don’t go there.  At least not with Cortez flying and EDI perched in a seat.  Watching them, Zahra was pretty sure.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So,” he drawled, “we’ve reached the dark humor portion of the mission then?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No one should be able to cut course like that, but he did.  Always had.  The corners of her mouth twitched, twitched up.  She huffed, pushing off the sealed door and rolling her shoulders.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t want you to feel like you were left out or anything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aw, thanks, Shepard.  You shouldn’t have.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His smile was slow, bit by bit changing his face like a sunrise changed the landscape.  Color bleeding back into the world, and there it was again.  That pull, that distortion in space time that threatened to drag her back.  But it wasn’t dragging if she wanted to run into it, if she wanted to just </span>
  <em>
    <span>fall</span>
  </em>
  <span>, like she had fallen once upon a time.  When it had been uncomplicated, unclouded by choking grief and bitter anger.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>How did it go from that to something good again?  Never did, at least not in her experience.  Trying the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result was the definition of insanity.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’d never claimed to be sane.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What can I say, Alenko?”  Shifting her weight, the pauldrons of their armor clacked together, their fields tingled along her skin as they met.  The smile, half sly, half shy was startled off his face, and it almost made her laugh.  The laugh waited in her guts, but she didn’t want to laugh, not right now.  Didn’t know what she wanted.  “I’m thoughtful like that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No, no she did know.  She had put it out there, all he had to do was pick it up. Just pick it up and run with it.  They could both run with it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He just had to—The fingers of Kaidan’s right hand caught the fingers of her left, their hands half hidden in the shadows between their bodies.  Even though two layers of armor, an electric thrill ran up her back and sparked through her skull like lightning.  God, but she had missed that touch, that thing that was </span>
  <em>
    <span>Kaidan</span>
  </em>
  <span>, ocean deep and comfortingly cool, that could now make the wires under her skin damp down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he whispered, honeyed gravel and a flare of blue in those space dark eyes.  “You are.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From the pilot’s seat, Cortez coughed.  Zahra didn’t pull away.  Kaidan only squeezed her fingers tighter.  “On approach back to the Normandy, Commander.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, Cortez,” she said, and decided to not care who the hell saw.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Shepard, I have a question about human behavior.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright EDI, give me your best shot.”  She didn’t even have the urge to sigh.  What a fucking wonder that was.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It had been a long two weeks.  Flying the Normandy through systems to pick up personnel and equipment.  Two weeks since their last Citadel stop.  Sarah and Kolyat both under Bailey’s watchful eye.  Man had lost track of a son and daughter, and she had thrown two more kids at him.  She wasn’t sure if it was cruel or kind to have done that to him.  But it was done, and she had to hope that would be enough to keep them safe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And she was, maybe not fine, fine wasn’t the right word for what she was.  But she was something more than she had been before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>EDI’s expression was hard to read sometimes.  Intentionally so, Zahra would have guessed.  All the same, EDI’s amusement was loud and clear in the tilt of her head and the impish grin on her face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I believe if I </span>
  <em>
    <span>gave you my best shot</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Shepard, it would be at point blank range right now.  Even you might not survive it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, we’re getting into puns now, are we?  They’re the lowest form of humor, I’ll have you know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In English, perhaps, but other Earth languages and some non-Terran ones as well are more suited to puns.  Japanese in particular is rather well suited.  Kasumi taught me several amusing—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you win again, EDI,” Zahra said, holding up her hands in mock defeat.  “Let’s hear the question.  I take it this is another question that Joker doesn’t like to answer?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, Shepard.  It is a question about your behavior in particular.  In the shuttle, as we left the mining facility, you were.  You displayed obvious tactile affection for Major Alenko.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And?”  Maybe she should have thought for a hot second before all but cuddling Kaidan on the shuttle.  The fact that people knew she and Kay were almost a thing again, that was fine.  It was people </span>
  <em>
    <span>asking</span>
  </em>
  <span> about it that got up her nose.  Granted that was only Vega and EDI right now, but damn it, why should it matter if they grabbed whatever time they could while they could?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And there were other times.  You held Grunt after the mission with the rachnii, you comforted Sarah Williams at the Memorial Wall, and there is footage of you embracing Talitha on the Citadel in 2183 after her attempted suicide.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Those are a lot of statements, EDI, but I’m sure there’s a question in there somewhere.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The decking wasn’t steady, because Zahra had lost track of where the hell this conversation might go.  EDI was normally a lot more direct than this.  Whatever this was, the context she required must have been huge.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, I have observed that many species and cultural groups have different approaches to touch.  For example, the quarians ritually clasp hands a good deal, likely due to the fact of their suits.  Turians and salarians touch very little openly, though turians are known to be more demonstrative in private.  Asari are very open with touch.  Humans are more varied, but what I do not understand is.  Why?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why we touch?  Aren’t there some psychological studies you could read?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, and I have read them.  They posit that touch is a vital need for all sapient and many near-sapient species.  However, that does not answer my question.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Which is?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why did </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> do as you did?  While I can read and parse theory, there is no emotive connection.  You are hardwired to touch, but that does not tell me why one person might touch another at any given moment.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You thinking of touching somebody EDI?” Zahra drawled, a smirk curving her mouth.  And immediately regretted it.  No one had told EDI how to keep anything off her face, and on it now was the outline of hurt.  God damn it.  She huffed like she’d been punched in the gut. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“EDI, I’m sorry, that’s what Joker does to you, and I promised I wouldn’t.  Look.  There’s lot of reasons why you touch people.  Sometimes it’s because they need the touch as a kind of reassurance.  Sometimes you need the reassurance.   You just </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span>.   It doesn’t make sense, but it’s.  It’s like when you’re in the moment and you just reach out and then someone is </span>
  <em>
    <span>there</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  It’s not up here,” Zahra said, tapping her forehead.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s.”  Her hand moved between them, back and forth, the space between, the space where there was and was not so much.  The space between her and Kaidan was a distortion in space-time, two binary stars circling, dancing through the blackness of the universe.  Never mind that she couldn’t dance.  And maybe that was the best way to explain.  Touch, it was—“It’s like gravity.  A pull, you just.  Go where you’re supposed to be, I guess.  Where you know you’re wanted, or someone knows where you want to be.  I don’t know, I’ve never been good at that sort of thing, EDI.  You’re kind of asking the exact wrong person.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>EDI’s eyes flickered, processing, and then.  Then she smiled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I believe, Shepard, your assessment is incorrect.  Your assessment about yourself, that is.  I believe I have asked the right person.  Thank you, your answers were.  Illuminating.”  A bright smile curved EDI’s polished face before she returned to the bridge with something like a bounce in her step.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right, okay,” she muttered to herself.  The sensation of the Normandy banking hard to port persisted, and Zahra wondered what the hell she had said right.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey Shepard, I’ve got an idea about—you alright?”  She started at the familiar burr of Kaidan’s voice.  The static of his field brushed against her own, his dark eyes held hers, and the pull of him looped behind her breastbone and didn’t let go.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A smile didn’t even have to struggle to curve her mouth.  “Yeah, think I am.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Revolution</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>They keep circling on that one point: Cerberus.  Though not for the reason Zahra thinks, not anymore.</p><p>A different take on the post-Arrae mission conversation that's less cringe and more honest.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The metal table squealed where she gripped the edges.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Any reason in particular you still on me about Cerberus?”  Under Zahra’s skin the cybernetics hummed and heated up, spoiling for a fight.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a flick of his omni-tool, Kaidan shut down the computer.  The unforgiving light of the crew quarters deepened the shadows on his face.  Made the white in his hair stand out.  She clenched her jaw.  He’d started this.  God damn if she was going to take another punch in this fight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He scrubbed a hand over his face and glanced at the milling crew.  Just a handful but it was enough.  She flicked a dismissive glance at them.  They fled.  The muscles in her back tightened into knots.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m trying to understand, Zee,” he said in a polite, </span>
  <em>
    <span>reasonable</span>
  </em>
  <span> tone.  She was sick and tired of reasonable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Understand what?”  She shot to her feet, sending her chair flying backwards and nearly upended the table.  One breath, then another—</span>
  <em>
    <span>ten deep breaths—</span>
  </em>
  <span>but blood rushed in her ears.  Turning on him, she snarled, “You said we were </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  Square.  But it’s still the same </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking</span>
  </em>
  <span> song and dance.  Cerberus, Cerberus, Cerberus!  Maybe if I say it enough times that illusive fuck will show up and when I kick his head in, maybe </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>will finally, </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally </span>
  </em>
  <span>be good enough for you.  Cause Jesus </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Kaidan.  We were good and then you pulled on me.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Me</span>
  </em>
  <span>!  And you, after the whole thing you </span>
  <em>
    <span>saw</span>
  </em>
  <span> how I was and still?  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Still!?</span>
  </em>
  <span>  Will it ever be over?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think you’re the only one who got hurt here?”  He didn’t shout, but there was a razor’s edge in his voice.  With deliberate slowness, he stood and faced her across the table.  “You </span>
  <em>
    <span>died</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and I had to live with that every.  Damned.  Day.  And when you were back, did you give a second of thought to what that might’ve been like?  Did you even read the letter I sent?  I don’t know, you didn’t reply!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I read it, but you think it would’ve been </span>
  <em>
    <span>safe</span>
  </em>
  <span> to reply?  You were used as bait on Horizon, and we both know it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hands curled right around the back of the chair.  “I didn’t ask for you to protect me.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I didn’t ask to be brought back from the dead!  But here we fucking are!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And that,” he said, voice raw.  A blue corona flickered around him, and he slammed his hands into the table.  “</span>
  <em>
    <span>That</span>
  </em>
  <span> is what I’m trying to understand.  What it was like for you to have to work with Cerberus.  What it was that you </span>
  <em>
    <span>went through</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  What happened when you the deck had stacked against you before you even started playing.”  Aa long, slow breath escaped him.  The blue in his eyes flickered and faded.  “You know what, never mind.  I should have never brought it up.  I should’ve known better than to—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I tried to write back.”  That was her voice that was creaky and raw.  His head shot up and dark eyes stared at her.  God, she really was a sucker for big brown eyes.  The wires in her cheeks were still hot, but she kicked it all down. The red hot wall of anger that had been the one constant after her resurrection.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did.  I lost track of how many letters I started in my head.  None of them ever sounded right.  And then, after the whole Shadow Broker thing, I was at the most secure terminal in the galaxy.  I could’ve sent something.  I, I typed in your address and I.  I couldn’t.  Nothing, nothing was going to be good enough, Kay.  We were on a suicide mission.  What should I have said?  ‘Hey, still care about you, might’ve loved you, I don’t know it’s all really fucked up now, and I think I’m going to die again.’  Yeah, </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> would have been </span>
  <em>
    <span>great</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her back hit the metal of one the bunks, arms crossed over her chest.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Defensive posture</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  God damn therapists being right about some shit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I tried to put you away,” he whispered.  She watched him sidelong; he gripped the back of that chair like it was the only thing holding him up.  “I tried to pack it up all up, store it away.  Everything that was </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  But I couldn’t.  Seeing you.”  His breathing shuddered to a stop.  Like hers had over a cold planet years ago.  “My teams had raided Cerberus bases.  What we found for Kahoku was just the tip of the iceberg.  And I got twisted up, and I will always, </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> regret that I wasn’t there for you when you needed me.  It’s no excuse, Zee.  Can’t be.  Just the reason.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, that why you pulled on me?  You got twisted up again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Heh, got it in one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>How</span>
  </em>
  <span>?  I mean, we were talking, I bring you some whiskey, yeah, we’re okay.  You aren’t even hung up about Thane, which, okay, great.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seem to recall I told you I tried dating again.  We both had our rebound guys.  Guys who probably didn’t deserve to be rebound guys.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened, then?  How did we go from okay and caring to staring down sights at each other?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He fixed her with a stony glare, the muscles in his jaw jumping.  “Give you one guess,” he bit out darkly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Udina,” she said flatly.  “That illusive asshole gave him just enough, didn’t he?  Just enough to whisper just the right fucking thing in your ear.  Playing us off each other.  Playing his fucking,” she shouted and kicked at the metal leg of a bed.  Ozone snapped in the air.  “Control.”  Another kick, a spark.  “Games.”  She wound up, skin crackling with biotic electricity, and then Kaidan’s hand was on her shoulder.  The energy grounded out through him, and he winced.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God damn it, Kay,” she hissed, taking his head in her hands.  “You gotta stop doing that.  Your implant can’t take what I can generate now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I,” he said thickly, “will tell you what I can and can’t handle when it comes to you, Zee.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her grin was wan, but there all the same.  “You stubborn idiot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right back at’cha,” he said, smiling through the pain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gently, far more gently than she thought herself capable, she touched her forehead to his.  How did he still </span>
  <em>
    <span>smell</span>
  </em>
  <span> the same?  Ozone and soap and a little hint of something like snowy pine.  As if he didn’t know if he was allowed to do so, he slowly closed his arms around her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I still want to know,” he said.  She frowned at him, but his thumbs smoothed away the furrow in her brow.  “I just want to hear what it was like.  To know all the things I missed.  I don’t want to miss another second of you that I don’t have to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.”  Her throat closed up, and she fought to speak past the lump there.  “You think, uh, you could tell me about you?  I mean, I just.  Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’ll be fine.  I can tell you all you want to know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.”  She rocked on her feet, but he didn’t let her go.  That was alright.  She could move, but he was still there.  “So are we doing </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” she gestured between them, “again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell you what.  When we’re next on the Citadel, I’ll grab us some beer from this place I know.  Then, we’ll see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She narrowed her eyes at him.  “We’ll see?  You really think we can do this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, we might get it right the second time around.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re my kind of crazy, Alekno.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t, Shepard.”  </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Enough</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Ardat-Yakshi Monastery was all manner of harrowing, especially with Zahra's hangups about sisters.  But even laid up with a migraine, Kaidan helps her find perspective.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Samara’s face was impassive from the floor below.  The screaming that haunted the whole monastery didn’t phase her.  It ran up the back of Zahra’s neck, a chill worse than any dread.  The whole place tasted like the air before rain.  It lingered in every corridor, in every room.  Over the bodies of the dead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The too few bodies of the dead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Falere ran away from her mother, and for a second Zahra would have sworn anguish twisted the justicar’s smooth, still features.  A mother of three girls, one dead, another unaccounted for.  This last one left to her.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Get her!  We’ll catch up!” Zahra called out, but Samara was already chasing after her child.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The screaming came closer.  No, not screaming.  The wails, mindless and enraged.  There was an icy cold in that sound, colder than the void of space.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her first sight of a twisted asari made her mouth press into a thin, grim line.  Behind her, Kaidan’s field flooded to life, cracking, crashing around her, pulling at her own as she slammed into a Reaper twisted asari, the world turning blue-white and ozone filling her helmet.  The wail drilled into her ears, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing</span>
  </em>
  <span> still standing.  The riptide of Liara’s biotics ripped into the thing, tearing away the last of its barrier as Zahra reared and slammed her fist into the ground.  Blue shockwave cascading out, she pulled back a fist, glowing with contained lightning and hit the thing right its distended stomach.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was still </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking going</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mouth desert dry, she shifted her shotgun to both hands and unloaded shot after shot until it wailed, one final, deathly wail as it clawed at the air, falling to the ground.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Goddess,” Liara breathed, hand pressed over her chest.  Her hand shook.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shepard,” Kaidan said, his voice tight over the comms.  He didn’t need to say the rest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” she answered.  “We keep moving, and switch strategy.  Liara, you set them up, Kay, you’re on second, and then I knock ‘em down.  Three-step punch, and we </span>
  <em>
    <span>do not stop</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you hear me?  We can’t let them use biotics.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her whole skull buzzed from the field that thing had generated.  Not fucking good at all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Their quiet acknowledgments were enough, and she went through the door.  To the Great Hall.  Where a bomb waited.  Where Rila lay dying.  Slumped against the bomb.  A body on the floor, carnage all around her, like—</span>
  <em>
    <span>dark eyes stare sightlessly, night-black hair a cascade around sandy, fine featured faces, delicate and perfect and empty</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And it all turned into the worst kind of horror vid so fucking quick.  Rila fighting back the Reaper infection, keeping her own mind even as her eyes turned black and hollow and empty.  So empty.  But her face, her face was the picture of defiance and sorrow, and Zahra knew.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was now or never, and she wasn’t sure if that would be enough. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Falere struggled against Zahra’s hold.  Tears and broken anger screamed out of the woman’s mouth, a bitter counterpoint to her anguished refusal to accept her sister’s death.  Zahra grit her teeth against phantom pain in her shoulder.  There was no scar where the bullet had gone through, but bone remembered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With the same arm that had been shot on a landing pad at sixteen, Zahra hurled Falere into the elevator.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The screams of the twisted asari followed her.  Biotic fields, harsh and jagged over her skin, digging into the back of her neck.  They smelled wrong.  Not like ozone, not even like the bitter-metal twist to Javik’s biotics.  These things were </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  Liara’s cheeks were a bright purple, lips pressed tight together, and Kaidan’s head hung heavily and his breathing was too even.  All the feedback had to have shorted him out, but there wasn’t anything she could do about that right now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elevator doors shut, Falere pounded on them, pleading, screaming with defiance.  Until the explosion rocked the whole facility.  Until Rila was dead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Agony curled every line of Falere’s body.  But there was a gift in it.  Rila had done her job, had protected her little sister.  Had done the one thing Zahra never could.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” she whispered, hand on Falere’s shoulder.  “I know.”  Tears streamed down blue cheeks, but there was no tremble in her lips, no flinching in her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” the sister without sisters said.  “You do.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lights were out in starboard observation.  Not even the dim red lights were on.  Zahra stood in the doorway, neither coming or going.  Balanced on the edge.  The monastery handled and Samara on her way to join the fight, she’d wanted, what?  To see him?  Him because he knew.  On X57 when she had flipped her shit, had screamed at him and Ashley both about losing her sisters.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wouldn’t have to explain it again.  But she’d been only thinking about herself and not—“You know.”  There was a bleeding edge of strain to his voice, but she could picture the curve of his mouth.  A sly, wry almost not there grin.  “I could use the worst nurse in the galaxy right about now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She stepped inside with a huff, the door closing behind her.  “You’re probably going to regret that.”  He was flat out on the couch, arm draped over his face.  Leaning over the back of the couch, she reined in her field as best she could before she ran her fingers through his hair.  A grimace twisted his mouth and he curled up.  “Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to—I’ll go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Zahra,” he breathed her name.  Free hand searched for her blindly, and she took it.  Couldn’t not.  “It’s fine.  You can stay.  Won’t kill me.  And you don’t have to pull in your field like that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure that’s a good idea?  All that feedback is what put you up like this.”  Keeping her voice quiet was an effort, but one she’d do a hundred times over.  Hurting him, God.  They’d hurt each other enough.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t know,” he said slowly.  “But it’s disorienting to know you’re there and not feel you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay then.”  Cautiously, she let her field go as she came around the couch and sat on the floor.  The stars were bright outside the window, but a cool, removed kind of brightness.  A brightness that must not hurt him.  That or he hated looking at the blast shield.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His hand settled on her shoulder, their fields buzzing, fizzing off each other.  Fingers curled into her uniform, but she held until the grimace of pain faded as their fields settled down.  Not trying to play off each other, but falling into a stable interaction.  Equilibrium, like binary stars.  He breathed out slowly, carefully, like he was testing the edge of something.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry about this,” he said eventually. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Kaidan</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Zahra</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  Let me finish.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright,” she said, picking at the flooring idly.  Waiting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry that I wasn’t there to help you with Falere right after.  Sisters.  I know what that does to you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Screwing her eyes shut, the red-tinged memories leapt to life—</span>
  <em>
    <span>Karima hangs off her arm, giggling, Norah kicks her legs as she sits on Zahra’s shoulders, Karima presses Norah’s face to her chest—</span>
  </em>
  <span>and Zahra swallowed heavily.  She could swallow it down, like bad medicine, but it didn’t crack along her bones.  Not right now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, well.”  Her voice was rough, but steady.  The well deep coolness that was Kaidan was at her back, even laid out with a migraine.  “It’s not so bad as it used to be.  Lot worse has come my way since.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I suppose it has.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The quiet buzzed in her ears, and a restless twinge ran down her leg.  “Want some ice chips?  Water?  Anything, I can go get it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” he whispered.  “No, you’re enough.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her throat constricted.  That was something she had never been before.  She curled her fingers over his and squeezed.  He squeezed back.  No datapad, no mission parameters, no expectations except to </span>
  <em>
    <span>be</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  In the dimness opposite the stars, they sat together in the quiet until neither of them braced for pain with each breath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was enough.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Surrender</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>An entire re-write of the Citadel date because come on!  He could do better than a dinner date!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It wasn’t a date, Zahra told herself the whole elevator ride.  Not a date.  There were just seeing where they were going to go.  “</span>
  <em>
    <span>If</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  Don’t get ahead of yourself, Zee.”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Presidium didn’t smell of gunfire and explosions anymore, but the scorch marks and bullet holes on the walls were vivid reminders of the coup attempt.  And here she was meeting up with Kaidan for a drink, like everything was normal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She wasn’t sure if anything could ever be normal again.  If it had ever been normal in the first place.  But there he was, leaning on the counter of the cafe, a six-pack of beer in hand.  He hadn’t seen her yet.  Was looking out over the vista.  He always had liked a good view.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” she said and he turned around.  Her mouth was dry, which was weird.  Wasn’t like her to be nervous.  “You haven’t been waiting too long have you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, not at all.”  His smile was easy and almost erased the last three years from his face.  “You got everything done?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yup.  Nothing to do now but, this.  I guess.”  Her eyes flickered over the neat little tables and chairs.  The picturesque scene played out before her eyes, and her lips thinned with an uncharacteristic uncertainty.  “So, dinner date?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ha, give me a little credit, Zee,” he said as he leaned close to her.  Honey over gravel that bypassed her brain and ran straight down her spine.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Measure for measure, she met his gaze with a challenge in her grey eyes.  “Alright, what we doing, then?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, that’s a surprise.”  He smiled that smug, self-satisfied smile and leaned away from her.  “Come on, there’s a place that I think you’ll like that not many people get to see.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He started backwards away from her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hate surprises.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ll like this one.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t be cute, Kay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell you what, I’ll let you walk behind me the whole way.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why would I—?”  She cut her question short when he turned around and walked away.  With that little bounce in his step.  She trotted to catch up, gritting her teeth at his delighted chuckle at the sound of her boots, and smacked him on right on his damned ass.  “Alright, you win.  Lead on.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Very gracious, Zee,” he teased.  Silence being the better part of valor, Zahra only glared at him the rest of the way to the elevator.  The doors closed, and thankfully no automated news report started up.  Would’ve been a real mood killer.  If there was any mood to be had.  Instead, Kaidan stood like he wasn’t worried about a damned thing.  A little nervous sweat would’ve been reassuring.  “Zee, you’re staring at me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am not.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, you are a bit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, fine, a bit.  So,” she drawled awkwardly.  “Remember the music in these things?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, not sure when they stopped playing that, but I do not miss it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What, you don’t want to see my sick dance moves?” she asked archly.  And then, possessed by some kind of demon of stupidity, started dancing.  Badly.  “I know what you’re thinking.  They could have least installed a dancing algorithm.  Or fixed my nose, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You,” he said as he looped a finger through a belt loop and pulled her close to him.  Even inactive, their fields sparked on each other.  Just like old times.  “Don’t need fixing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her mouth was suddenly desert dry.  “Okay, </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span> I need a beer.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The elevator dinged.  He smiled.  “Just a few more minutes.  Come on.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He let go of her belt loop and tugged at her hand, pulling her forward.  Forward and out into a whole world.  Overhead, an artificial sky displayed what the sky would look like if the Citadel was a planet instead of a space station.  Stars winked overhead in relation to station-night.  And under her booted feet, the ground was soft.  She stared at the dirt and grass like it was a foreign sight.  Like she’d never even been on a planet before.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s not the best part.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, just over the hill.”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her fingers twined through his, and she let him lead her up a small rise and there it was.  A dark pool of water reflected the sky above, a mirror view of stars.  And it was fresh.  Tons and tons of fresh water.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Welcome to the Citadel’s environmental regulation center.”  She couldn’t stop staring. Kaidan cracked open two beers and put one in her hand.  While she drank—a decent red ale, to her mild surprise—he explained, “There’s no way a place the size of the Citadel can import all its own atmosphere, and no purely mechanical system would do the job.  But the trees needed to cycle all the O</span>
  <span>2</span>
  <span> and water would’ve been impossible to maintain.  So, bioengineered algae.  The algae can’t be exposed to UV all the time or it’d all die, so they have to do day-night cycles down here.  Thought you’d like it at night.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s incredible.”  Clean.  The air was clean and had a tang of honest green to it.  “Reminds me of a lake on Mindoir.  Dad tacked up a rope and we’d swing into the water.”  A smile graced her lips; it was an old ache and lacked all the jagged sharpness it once had.  Other hurts were more recent, and these were old, old scars.  “Mom,” she huffed.  “Mom was so pissed, but Karima and Norah always played it safe.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And what did you do?” he asked.  His finger traced a stray lock of her hair away from her cheek, but she hadn’t taken her eyes off the manufactured lake.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I jumped off the highest outcrop I could find.”  Her smile turned into a smirk.  “Cannonball style.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, that sounds like you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Meeting his eyes, she didn’t know if it was her imagination or if she did see stars there.  Or if she was turning into a sap.  “Kay, I—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hold that thought, I have one one last surprise for you,” he said.  She gestured inarticulately as he set the beer down and dug in one of his pockets before holding out a closed fist.  Eyebrows raised skeptically, she waited. He turned his hand palm up, and her chest constricted when she saw what he held there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your </span>
  <em>
    <span>mezuzah</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  Go on, it’s yours.”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She took it, the weight of it familiar and solid in her hand.  Her forefinger traced over the engraved </span>
  <em>
    <span>shin</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and she blinked as she realized the backing had been replaced.  She’d never replaced it, never really bothered with it after she’d ripped off the door jamb on Mindoir. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>How</span>
  </em>
  <span>?  Why?  Kaidan, what?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your footlocker.  It came to me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  Oh fucking hell, Kay.  I didn’t think, I didn’t—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, hey, it’s alright.  It’s, well, it's all still safe, actually.  Stored it in the attic at the orchard.  Everything’s all there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“God.”  Blinking rapidly, she held the </span>
  <em>
    <span>mezuzah</span>
  </em>
  <span> to her chest.  “You kept it?  All of it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I told you I tried to put you away, Zee, and I couldn’t.  You, you.  I love you, and it's time I admit that nothing is ever going to change that.  You drive me crazy sometimes.”  She snorted her disbelief at the </span>
  <em>
    <span>sometimes</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and he cracked a wry smile.  “Alright a lot of the time, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her gaze shifted from him to the </span>
  <em>
    <span>mezuzah </span>
  </em>
  <span>and back.  Mouth working silently, she tried to dredge up something, anything to say, but every word she knew just didn’t seem like enough.  Earnest brown eyes watched her, a mix of hope and fear plain as day on that tired face.  Her fingers closed around the </span>
  <em>
    <span>mezuzah</span>
  </em>
  <span> and she held it to her chest.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was now or never.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She started to undo her boots.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, Zee, what are you doing?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thought that would be obvious.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Boots off, she wiggled her toes in the grass.  God, when was the last time her bare feet had touched grass?  Too fucking long.  She shucked out of her pants and pulled her top off over her head.  Last, but not least, she laid the </span>
  <em>
    <span>mezuzah</span>
  </em>
  <span> on top of the clothes pile and fled for the water.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Zahra!  What the hell?!” he called out, but she didn’t stop.  She hit the water at a full run.  It was warm, like the water off the coast of Brazil.  And everywhere around her, the water lit up.  Turning around in a circle, she splashed like a kid, making more of the algae glow blue.  Kaidan stood on the shore, hands on his hips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Water’s warm, so you better get your fine ass in here, Alekno.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m pretty sure we aren’t supposed to go </span>
  <em>
    <span>swimming</span>
  </em>
  <span> in this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“At this point, what’s one more rule?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They faced off twenty feet apart.  The water lapped around her belly, warm and inviting and she kept swishing her arms to sustain the glow.  “Oh, for,” he grumbled and started to undo his boots.  She laughed as he muttered, probably about how crazy she was, but he’d signed up for this.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Twice</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  With nothing but a scowl on his face, he joined her in the water.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You,” he said, taking her head in his hands like he was going to shake her.  She only grinned like an idiot.  He sighed.  “I love you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arms looped over his shoulders, she pressed her body close to his.  Bioluminescent algae around them, their biotic fields between them, a window to the stars above, she pressed her lips to his.  He kissed her back like a man desperate for air.  Her fingers dug into his hair, messing up what he kept tidy.  She ended the kiss with a nip at his lips, and she was rewarded with a smile warmer than the water.  “And I love you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yup, the stars really were in his eyes.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Carefully, he undid the chignon of her hair, and a black fall of hair fell down her back and trailed in the water.  He dug his hands into it and pulled her head back, exposing her neck.  And then lower.  He pressed his lips to where the old parts of her had been.  He traced all her new scars with tender fingertips, and his hands and lips closed the gap between past and present.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She surrendered.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Drift</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Just when things were going so well, Zahra heads off to retake Omega with Aria T'loak.  The crew of the Normandy, and one Major in particular, are not happy about it.  At all.</p>
<p>With bonus Samara relationship advice.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Zahra crossed her arms and glanced around the briefing room at her crew.  “Any questions?”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, just one, Commander,” Vega said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>loco</span>
  </em>
  <span>?  For real.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra glared at her bodyguard turned N7 trainee, but that was the start of the flood.  Liara leaned on the table and leveled what was supposedly a serious attempt at a glare her way.  Never could work.  Her cheeks were too round.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shepard, I know you think you dealt with Aria in the past, but she’s.  Formidable to say the least.  Even Beneiza was wary of her.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You weren’t on Omega long, Shepard,” Garrus added, the reverb of his voice going to a dark place.  “Aria T’loak is a nasty piece of work.  Sure, I went after the gangs, but even I wasn’t stupid enough to try to take her down.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re going to be working together.  On the same side,” Zahra clarified.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aria has no side but her own,” Liara insisted.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Commander, she’s got to let you take </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone</span>
  </em>
  <span>, right?” Vega asked.  “I’m not squeamish, and you need an actually friendly gun at your back.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Or at least let me come along and pilot,” Cortez insisted.  “Joker is needed on the Normandy, no question, but I can see you onto the station safely.  You have no idea what she has planned.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There has also been a lot of comm chatter around Omega, Commander,” Traynor added.  The girl’s eyes darted between everyone else in the room.  “Let me work a little longer at something, and I could get you some intel, at least.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Specialist Traynor is correct,” EDI said.  “Cerberus likely knows Aria is planning to retake the station.  The odds of success would be greater if—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What did I tell you about humans and odds, EDI?” Zahra whispered.  A whisper was better than a shout sometimes for getting people to be quiet.  She could holler with the best of them, but the whisper stopped them in their tracks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>EDI raised her chin and stood at attention.  “Yes, Shepard,” she said, though the irritated disapproval bled through her tone.  Being a disembodied voice for a while had let EDI really nail some good tones, Zahra thought.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Was nice to see everyone, or almost everyone, worried about her, though.  Javik kept mostly to himself unless he wanted to provoke, and Kaidan.  Kaidan stood on the far side of the room, his back pressed against the clear plastic, gaze tracking out to the stars.  A muscle in his jaw twitched.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The galaxy had shit timing, but there wasn’t much she could do about it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just got a few loose ends to tie up on the Citadel, and then we make rendezvous with Aria’s fleet.  Ka—Major Alenko will have command while I’m away.  That clear?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The chorus of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes, Commander</span>
  </em>
  <span> was sullen, but she got it.  Kaidan met her eyes, but didn’t say a damned word.  He didn’t have to.  The angry flicker of blue said it all for him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good,” she said.  Except it wasn’t.  “Dismissed.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra rocked back on her heels.  She should go, should get to the Normandy.  Make the rendezvous.  Run Aria T’loak’s one big fucking errand.  Cut off Cerberus’s access to the Traverse, too.  All good stuff.  Except.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is there something on your mind, Shepard?”  Samara’s cool voice and serene expression were the same as ever, more constant than stars.  A calm eye in any storm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kind of,” she admitted with a grimace.  “Samara, can I ask you some advice?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Interesting.  I do not believe you ask many people for such things.  I would be happy to assist you however I may.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right, well.  This is.  Personal.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The ghost of a smile flickered across Samara’s face.  A face that had probably smiled a lot more, once upon a time.  But then, who hadn’t?  The embassy was crowded, people crying for petitions to be completed, news announcements of loss unending.  Everyone weighed down with their own troubles, there was a pocket of privacy even in public.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you think that would mean I would be less willing to aid you, Shepard?  You have come to my aid twice now.  Both were matters that were.  Were important to me.  Ask, if you wish.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, it’s just.”  Zahra’s mouth worked silently, her gaze tracking out the window.  “It’s just I have to go to Omega to help Aria T’loak and I have to go alone.  Crew isn’t happy about it, but I.  It’s.  He’s.  I think I might just destroy something I only got back, and I don’t want to do that.  And I don’t know how to fix it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is this the human biotic that you brought with you to the monastery?  Major Alenko?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, Christ does everyone know about that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Samara said, an echo of amusement in her voice. “But I was able to surmise much from overhead conversations.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If someone makes a vid about us,” Zahra growled darkly, “I better be seeing royalty checks.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Be that as it may, Shepard, I can only suggest that you are honest with him.  To be bonded to another, it is not always easy.  I.  My bond with another could not survive the truth of our daughters, but it was honest.  To lie, to hide some truth of yourself from him, that will not sustain a bond, not in the end.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What if you’re really bad at emotional honesty?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then I would suggest,” Samara said with a bemused expression, “that you take the opportunity to improve.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra checked her armor one last time and then worked her arms to let it settle right around her shoulders.  Armor, check.  Guns, double check.  Cortez had nearly run away with them, insisting on doing a quadruple check.  She owed the man some good tequila for all his worrying.  And maybe to make sure Vega didn’t steal it from him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The docking tube bay was quiet.  Just her.  All by herself.  She pressed the comm.  “Joker, how we looking?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Almost there, Commander.  You sure you want to do this?  I can break away at any time.  Got a trajectory set and everything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, but no.  Stay on course, Joker.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aye, aye, ma’am.”  The resignation was clear in his voice, but he cut the comms all the same.  Well, it was now or never.  Bracing for the worst, Zahra hoped Kaidan was where he was usually set up.  She didn’t want to broadcast to the whole damned ship.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kaidan?  If you’re there, could you come up for a second?”  Silence was her answer, and she should have known.  He could never let anything go, he—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“On my way,” he said, the burr of his voice making her heart beat again.  Okay, she could do this.  She could be emotionally honest.  Then again, she was taking advice from a nearly thousand year old Justicar.  Maybe not the best role model.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door hissed open and he stepped through.  A bubble of privacy on a crowded ship.  Couldn’t help it, couldn’t help the way the corners of her mouth twitched up when she saw him, or how her shoulders relaxed as his field brushed and sparked against her own, sending a shiver over her skin, a tingle on her lips.  Damn him for being </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Glad you’re here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You did ask for me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right, had a reason for that.”  Unclipping the hardcase on her armor, she took out the </span>
  <em>
    <span>mezuzah</span>
  </em>
  <span> and offered it up.  “Want you to hold on to this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His brows drew together in a too familiar mix of worry and anger.  “Zahra—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just, let me explain, alright?”  Grabbing his hand, she pressed the stone capsule into the flesh of his palm.  It would be ever so slightly cool, his touch.  Always was.  From underneath dark brows, brown eyes met grey, and she shifted closer to him.  He waited.  Waited on her word.  “I don’t want to go by myself, and if I had it my way, you’d be at my six.  But I can’t, so I want you to have this so you know I’m coming back, okay?  You know what these are for, and.  And you’re the closest thing to a home I have, Kay.  No, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> my home.  So, I’m coming back, alright?  Just please.  Please be here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her heart was beating too fast for this, and her mouth was dry.  It was like she was staring down her sights at a damned Reaper, not talking to the stubborn, thoughtful, gorgeous person she loved.  He drew a shuddering breath and closed his fingers around the </span>
  <em>
    <span>mezuzah</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and his other hand cupped her face, thumb stroking across the white line of her wire-scars.  Cool to the touch, like always, she pressed her face against his palm and soaked up this moment for all she was worth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll be here, Zee.  I promise.  The Normandy, I, we’ll all be waiting for you when you get back.  So.”  A pent up breath blew past his lips, and the bunched tension bled from his shoulders.  “You kick some ass out there, alright?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The smirk was automatic, making him shake his head at her.  Like usual.  But she surprised him with the kiss.  Armored fingers ran through his hair and bunched in the fabric of his shirt.  He breathed her in, the cool rain of ozone building between them, sparking, flaring, crackling over her armor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The comms came to life.  “Commander, we are ETA two minutes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kaidan cut the comms.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Kaidan, I mean Major, are you still at the embassies?”  Traynor’s voice came over the comms. Kaidan pressed the piece in his ear to secure the connection.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just finishing up.  What’s going on?”  There was no keeping the eager edge out of his voice.  Five days.  Zahra had been gone for five days, and it was already doing a number on his head, like if he turned around fast enough there she’d be with those Pacific grey eyes and that just too wide mouth curved in a smirk, already teasing him for worrying so much.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They had gone out for a few short runs.  He knew better than to assume too much with a crew that wasn’t his own.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That and no one wanted to stray too far from the Citadel, the promised point of drop off for Zahra once Omega was put back under Aria’s control.  They would be here for her when she got back.  He had promised.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You might want to come back to the Normandy.  Um, how do I say this?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Traynor, please, do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> keep me in suspense.  Is Zee—Shepard, is she back?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She is!  But, um—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sam, you don’t need to say anything else, I’m on my way.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was the hardest thing he’d done, not to run the whole way back. Traynor’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>but, um</span>
  </em>
  <span> could wait.  It didn’t matter.  Zahra had come back.  She had come back to him.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The box was only halfway full.  Zahra hummed off-key to herself while she rifled through the locker, looking for anything else to pack up.  There wasn’t much, but then he’d said he was living light.  She should requisition him a few more things.  Or, hell, just buy him some stuff.  He deserved to be spoiled a little.  Yeah, she could do that.  She could—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What the hell, Zee?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Glancing up, she tried to smile and almost made it.  “Hey, Kay.  Good to see you, and sorry about this, but I didn’t want to wait.  Thought we could just do this now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And this is what, exactly?” he asked warily.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra looked at the box, back up him, the box, and back to him.  Then it dawned on her.  “No, I’m not kicking you off the Normandy.  I was just thinking, on the ride back here, that I don’t see the point in dancing around it.  You should just move in with me.  To my cabin, that is.  Not like regs matter a lot now.  Besides, you outrank me.  Probably fine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know,” he drawled, “usually people ask and then pack.”  Lowering himself to the floor, he sat opposite her, the box of his meagre possessions between them.  She nudged at it with a little biotic push.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know.  Always doing things backwards, right?  It just, it got bad on Omega, and I, I just.”  Didn’t need to close her eyes to see the blast where Nyreen had been.  To hear Aria’s scream of rage.  To hear Petrovsky’s choking, gasping breath as Aira nearly squeezed the life out of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The scream, lurch, stench of the adjutants.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just what?”  It had left something behind, seeing that.  Something that wasn’t the cold numbness of shock she could push through or the red-hot anger that had been a part of her since coming back from the dead.  This took the breath right out of her lungs and threatened to leave her screaming on the floor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I realized a few things.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, one, it must have been really awkward for everyone else when we were fighting.  Really, really awkward.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he agreed with a brief chuckle.  “Probably was.  Though I get the feeling that isn’t it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, it’s not,” she told him, grabbing his wrist tight enough to leave marks.  Proof that they were here together.  “We lost a good person, and I.  I don’t see the point in keeping separate bunks.  Why hold back, right?  I’m all in.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His other hand pressed over hers, thumb grazing her knuckles.  The dark of his eyes was enough to drown in, the flicker of blue stars lighting her way.  She could navigate by his touch, his eyes, by him.  She could find her way back from anything if she had him to come back to.  “So am I, Zee,” he whispered, honey over gravel.  “Think I always have been.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So that’s a yes?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s a yes.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Alive</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>For the first time in a long time, Zahra Shepard doesn't want to die.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Thank you, Shepard,” Liara said packing up the time capsule.  The insurance against failure.  Zahra tried not to glare at the black box.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.”  Her leg bounced on its own again.  A fissure in her chest opened up, and an inferno oozed out.  Licking her lips, she managed not to make her voice sound too thick.  “Not a problem, Liara.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bright blue eyes regarded her thoughtfully, warily, before sliding to where Kaidan sat on the couch.  In his usual spot, report in hand.  Zahra’s fingers curled into fists, nails biting into her palms.  Kaidan didn’t so much as glance up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll leave you, then.”  Zahra watched her go, watched as the door hissed shut.  Shooting her to her feet, she paced the length of her cabin.  From the door to the bed, the blue glow of the aquarium flickering over her face like she was underwater, too.  Underwater and couldn’t get out, couldn’t rise, couldn’t breathe.  Something was stuck behind her breastbone, she could feel it, feel it under there.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At the door again, she turned on her heel and there was Kaidan.  His field wrapped around hers, no longer a sharp crack, but a steady thrum that drained away the buzzing in her teeth.  Hands on her arms, grey eyes met dark brown, so dark that she could see the flicker of a starry blue in them.  Then her gaze slid away, looking for something, anything.  Anything that would keep her moving.  She tried to push forward, but he braced against her momentum.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let me go, Kay,” she snapped.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, don’t think so,” he said, still trying to catch her eye again.  “Try again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mouth twisted in a bitter grimace, but her throat was tight.  Horribly tight.  Too tight to let air through.  She couldn’t breathe.  Couldn’t get enough air.  It was happening again.  Wrenching out his grip, her hands flew behind her head and cupped the back of her neck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The stars through the skylight seemed to swirl and spin, and she closed her eyes against it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But not seeing him didn’t make him go away.  He was still there, patient and stubborn, his field a steady tide against the wildfire madness that she projected.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She could do this.  She could do this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ten deep breaths, Zee</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her tongue was heavy in her mouth.  Opening her eyes, she fixed him in her field of vision.  The only steady thing in a galaxy losing its fucking mind.  Soft dark eyes and worried eyebrows and the white at his temples.  Just standing there.  Waiting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was her Kay, though.  She stood up to run.  He stood to hold his ground.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Licking her lips, she said, “I don’t want to die, Kay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Slowly, carefully, like she was some kind of wild animal, he curled his hands over her shoulders and pressed his forehead to hers.  “I know, Zee, and—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” she said, voice cracking.  The crack of ice when it got too cold for even ice to hold together.  “No, you don’t get it.  I don’t.  I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to die.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Those dark eyes that held the whole damned universe went wide.  A blue spark of fear flared in him, but he clamped it down tight.  How did he do that?  Was that something everyone else could do?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But she’d said it now, and the rest.  The rest came out, a flicker to a spark to a fire.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought I’d made peace with it, you know?  That I could go out with a, with a fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>smile</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  As long as I was taking the Reapers with me.  It would all be worth it, for that kind of victory, but now.  Now.  Now I want to go down and smash that time capsule to tiny fucking pieces.”  Teeth bared in a snarl, her fingers curled and blue danced between them.  “Because.  I.  Do.  Not.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Want</span>
  </em>
  <span>. To.  Die.  I want to </span>
  <em>
    <span>live</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Kay.  I don’t even know what the fuck that means, but I want it.  I want.  I want to live through this </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking</span>
  </em>
  <span> war and live like a real person, because I don’t know if I ever have, and Christ.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  Kay, Kay I want to live, I want—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pulled her to him, her mouth pressed to his neck.  The hot wires under her skin cooled at the contact.  One hand dug into her hair, and she clung to him, gripping him tight enough to hurt.  But the hurting, the hurting was living, and she would soak it all up until she couldn’t take another drop.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m here, I’m here.”  His voice was thick, and salt tears fell on her.  “And you’re here.  We’re here together, alright?  That’s what matters, Zee.  Right here, right now.  We have this.  We have this, okay?”  Hand rubbing her back, his arms tightened around her, a squeeze that was too tight to be comfortable.  “And right now, we’re not going anywhere.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thought,” she said dryly, “thought you’d tell me that I’m not going to die.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A dark huff brushed past her ear.  “And let you make a crack about having already died?  No, don’t think so.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She burrowed deeper against him.  Hard to do, he was barely an inch taller than she was, but she did it all the same.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You talk like you have my number, Alenko.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Think I kind of do, Shepard.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t stop rubbing her back in slow, steady circles.  Didn’t stop breathing evenly, easy for her to match it.  Tucking her hair behind her ear, he pressed a kiss to her temple.  Eyelids fluttering shut, she sighed.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe you do,” she muttered.  “But don’t get smug about it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His chuckle was a low burr in her ear.  “Too late for that, Zee.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra breathed out.  It was too late for a lot of things.  At least this wasn’t one of them.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Return</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>TALI IS BACK!  I'm forever sad at how late in the game Tali comes back, but as ever our favorite quarian brings out the best in Zahra.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“You know, it’s kind of crazy.  Didn’t think I’d be agreeing with Zaal’Koris after everything that happened with your trial,” Zahra remarked.  In the dimness of her cabin, the bright points of Tali’s eyes turned into amused slits behind her mask.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Me either.  And if I’m completely honest,” Tali said, her voice dropped to a whisper.  “I had thought Raan would have been able to stand up to Han’Gerrel.”  And for a second, the youngest admiral the fleet had ever known fidgeted and twisted her hands like the kid she had been three years ago.  The kid that had gone from her Pilgrimage to one of the riskiest situations in the galaxy because she couldn’t stand by and do nothing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Or she still was that kid, and that kid had always been the admiral.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra squeezed Tali’s arm.  It was always easier with Tali, with the young woman who occupied a space in her head that had been left vacant, hollow, when she was sixteen and blood had spilled across the landing pad on Mindoir.  “But you’re making a difference, Tali.  That’s what matters.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because of you, Shepard.  Because you showed me how to stand up to people when I thought they were wrong.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, about that, I’m probably not the best example to look up to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pretty certain you don’t get to decide that.”  Tali’s tone was arch, contrary, and everything that was a bratty kid sister.  The grin that tugged at the corners of Zahra’s mouth didn’t pull at the wires under her skin, didn’t hurt the whisper-thin bleeding-orange scars on her cheeks, didn’t make her chest ache.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I see that includes standing up to even me,” Zahra drawled, the smile breaking open across her face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course,” Tali replied blithely, “what would be the point otherwise?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go on,” Zahra said between low chuckles, “get out of here.  I got a lot of work to do to retake your home for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pah!  You say that like you will do it all by yourself.  If you think you’re doing any of this without me, Shepard, you’re very much mistaken.”  Head high, Tali keyed open the door and left her quarters—</span>
  <em>
    <span>Norah’s little legs pump frantically as they run under the summer leaves.  “Don’t leave me behind, Zee!  I can keep up!  I can!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wouldn’t dream of it, kid,” Zahra whispered in the stillness of her cabin.  “Not for a second.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra’s gaze slid away from the still form of the dead Reaper and tracked out over the Rannoch landscape.  Dramatic canyons and scrubland.  A home longed for by generations of the displaced.  A home kept ready by ad hoc custodians.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Legion’s body lay spawled on the outcrop.  Zahra sat back on her heels, heaviness creeping into her body.  Long day, this.  A really long day.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The soft click of tempered glass made her look up.  Tali’s mask back in place, she knelt opposite the empty platform that had once housed, had once been a friend.  A friend who, at the last, had become a person.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“To think,” Tali said quietly.  The world around them was vast, open, but also had the hushed quality of a temple.  A place that had been tended to.  “That we have the geth to thank for preserving our home, for cleaning away the worst of what had happened here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not that surprising is it?  He always called quarians </span>
  <em>
    <span>Creators</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”  Her fingers twitched.  It didn’t seem right to leave him slumped like this.  She rolled him onto his back, optical sensors pointed sightlessly to the painted sky.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I suppose it isn’t.”  An irritated huff was followed by a rueful shake of her head.  “After all he has done for us, it’s still hard to accept that a geth, any geth would care about quarians.”  Tali traced the punctured outline of the old N7 chestplate that Legion had affixed to himself.  In an effort to understand.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra straightened his arms and pondered the sniper rifle.  Let it stay holstered.  His last act had been a gift, not one of destruction.  “Told you what I saw in the geth consciousness.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You did.”  Moisture condensed behind the mask.  “And I will make sure what you learned is known by all our people.  That the forgotten will not stay that way, quarian and geth alike.  We have to be better than what we were, Shepard, otherwise, what is the point?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The breeze didn’t reach either of them, Zahra still in her armor, Tali locked away in her suit again.  But the scrub brush waved in it, dust carried along in its wake.  A rocky and stark planet with life hidden among the pillars and crevices.  It reminded her of Israel.  Of the pictures Mom had shown her ages and ages go.  Where their people had come from, where their people had returned to.  Not without cost, grievous cost in blood.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Over a century later, and no one was sure if it had been worth it.  But the quarians—Tali—were returned home.  What would come next, well, that was anyone’s guess but maybe it wouldn’t have to be so bloody.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That is the point, kid.  That’s exactly the point.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Slim shoulders rolled back, and the young admiral who wasn’t much of a kid anymore raised her head and looked out over her homeland.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can we stay?” she asked.  “Just a little longer?”   Zahra’s vision doubled, and—</span>
  <em>
    <span>Norah’s big dark eyes are wide at the sight, at the vista before them, she’s never seen the waterfall this close before.  But dinner will be soon, and Mom will worry.  “Can we stay, Zee?  Just a little longer?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah we can.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I see the rules haven’t changed,” Tali commented wryly as Traynor guiltily shoved the datapad away from herself and pulled her plate of food closer.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My ship.”  Zahra pointed around the crew deck with her fork.  “Means I make the rules.”  Made the rules to go along with the crew dinners that Kaidan kept making.  Until he’d started making them, she hadn’t much cared.  At least this time they weren’t shitty ready-mades and no one tried to steal her desserts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, um, sorry, I know the rules, I just,” Traynor hesitated over the words.  “I just thought it would be good to keep an eye on some, um, algorithms I’m running.  There is a lot of good quarian and geth data to incorporate, and EDI and I—” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“EDI, rules apply to you, too,” Zahra interrupted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>EDI pursed chrome lips at the exchange, head tilted curiously.  “Shepard,” she said in those cool, cool tones, “I do not need to eat, and I can process several tasks simultaneously.  I am always, as it were, doing work.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Neither of you should take it too hard,” Garrus told them both.  His flanges twitched in amusement.  It was all over the ship, a lightness, a leg-bouncing, buoyant thing that sat behind her mental and bone ribs.  And she wasn’t the only one who felt it.  The Normandy thrummed with it, an eagerness that came up through her boots.  “Shepard made me stop bringing guns to the table, too.  Never mind it was the best place to clean a sniper rifle.  Best light and space.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good thing that’s not true anymore, right Garrus?”  Cortez asked, a thread of amused pride in his tone.  The new crew did like pointing out how the SR-2 was better in some ways, especially after the retrofit.  “Got all that space down in the shuttle bay now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, it’s a vast improvement.  Lighting’s a lot better too.  Why </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> it so dim down in the old cargo bay, Shepard?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Twirling her fork around, Zahra shrugged.  “Couldn’t tell you.  Just how we ran it.  Maybe a power thing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait a minute, are you saying you don’t know why there are lighting differences on different decks?”  Tali’s tone was a mix of offended, aghast, and disgusted.  “You’d never make it in the fleet, Commander.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Seeing as I punched one of your admirals, probably not.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“To be fair, Han’Garrel could use more punching.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not wrong, Sparks,” Vega agreed heartily.  “Firing while the Commander was still on the dreadnought, I thought I was going to have to mount a rescue.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What, all by yourself, Vega?” Garrus drawled.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Massive shoulders rolled, followed by a loud neck crack.  “I could do it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That is unlikely, Lieutenant Vega,” EDI said cooly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, no offense, James, but uh, you’re not quite as good at punching as the Commander,” Joker scoffed.  “Besides if EDI gives the odds, I’d believe them.  Except for you, Commander.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The corners of her mouth twitched up, just a twitch.  Garrus shook his head with a sigh.  “I would’ve had myself, EDI and, hm.  Liara or Javik, hard call.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You would not be the one to make that call, turian.”  Four eyes narrowed at Garrus.  Garrus stared right back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Liara for sure, then,” he said.  Liara sat up straighter as Javik bared his teeth in a silent snarl.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Obviously, the best choice.”  Her tone prim and somehow mocking at the same time as she took another bite of food.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And that,” Kaidan said quietly, “is why Garrus is third in line for command.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m still hurt you picked him over me,” Tali said, and Zahra could almost imagine her pout.  Had been an easy conversation, all things considered.  Tali rapped her fingers in a staccato beat.  “I was on the SR-1 the same as Garrus, and I’m an admiral besides.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kaidan’s grin was wry.  “Tali, you’re an amazing engineer, but we both know you’d be a dictator and go mad with power.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The bright glow of her eyes narrowed before she shrugged.  “You’re probably right.  And I suppose I have you to thank for these new, what did you call them?  Smoothies?  Where you found dextro-chocolate powder, I do not know, but if Shepard doesn’t want to keep you, I will.  For the smoothies of course.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kaidan half choked and nearly spat out his water, the tips of his ears going bright red.  A laugh, a real, honest to God laugh bubbled up out of Zahra’s stomach, past a ribcage that wasn’t perpetually tight anymore and burst from her lips like a bird in flight.  Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes, and she wiped them away with her thumb.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know, it’s good to be back, Shepard.”  The smile was clear behind her mask, a smile that was bright and brilliant—</span>
  <em>
    <span>gap teeth, a round face, and a button nose, so different from her own, but with the same sandy skin and night-dark hair, the smile lights up Norah’s face as she throws childish, skinny arms around Zahra’s legs.  “Love you, Zee!”</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tali,” she said between aftershocks of amusement, “it’s good having you back.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Wild</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After the whole Clone Thing, the crew tries to find a way to help Zahra relax.  None of the friendship play-dates went well, so.  New idea.  It's dumb, dangerous, and destructive.  In other words, perfect for Zahra.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Two weeks.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What the fuck was she supposed to do with two weeks?  The whole weird, messed up clone thing had only taken a couple of days and left the Normandy in even more need of repairs than before.  She was </span>
  <em>
    <span>stuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  Stuck on the Citadel.  Sure with a sweet apartment, but a whole lot of </span>
  <em>
    <span>time.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Last time she’d had this much time on her hands had been when she’d been in lock up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Okay, bad example.  Before then.  Free time, two weeks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On leave?  Somewhere?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Probably wasn’t a good sign that she couldn’t call it to mind.  At least this time she wasn’t penned up in a boxy room that was effectively a cell.  She could see people </span>
  <em>
    <span>other</span>
  </em>
  <span> than the brass and Vega.  Though right now, she was wandering the neon riot of the Silversun strip.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra drummed her fingers on the railing as she walked along.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Two weeks.  It was a whole shit ton of time, and she had no fucking clue what to do with herself.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, glad you all could make it.”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You said this was about Shepard,” Kaidan said as he leaned back in the wobbly chair and crossed his arms over his chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All any of them had to say was that it was about Zahra, and everyone would come running.  In this case it was to the hole-in-the-wall Alliance bar that was still going strong.  He supposed Purgatory was alright for a party, but not so much for actually talking.  And he was happy to not have to go to a place that would most likely give him a migraine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So here they were, the Normandy’s ground crew plus Cortez and Traynor, squished elbow to elbow around a table tacky with old spilled beer and other things he didn’t want to think about.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vega had made the call, though, and he nodded while taking a deep breath.  “Yeah, it’s like this.  There are stories about her, you know, from before the Normandy, and during the whole Saren and the geth thing.  Can’t help but notice that the stories are a bit different than how she is now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tali’s laugh was low and amused.  “That’s because she doesn’t have the Mako anymore.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Goddess,” Liara muttered, blue cheeks paling.  “I had done my best to forget that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lots of things to have nightmares about, but those drops were something else,” Garrus agreed in a wry tone.  “I think only Wrex ever liked her driving.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait, what’d she do in the Mako?” Cortez asked, leaning forward with interest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Joker laughed.  The laugh of a man who only ever heard people panicking while Zahra piloted the drop.  “Oh man, I’d forgotten!  Always some crazy old music and she’d land just shy of crashing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, it was terrible for the suspension,” Tali said darkly as she scrubbed at a nasty spot on the table with a too-thin napkin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Traynor blanched. “That cannot have been regulation.  Or safe.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was not,” Liara agreed grimly.  There was no forgetting Liara’s first drop, the poor kid.  He still felt a little guilty about that, but at the time it had been almost like a right of passage on the Normandy, going on a drop with the Commander.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, but it came in handy for that drop on Ilos, didn’t it?” Joker shot back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kaidan struggled to keep a grin on his face.  The memory of that insane, suicidally short drop wouldn’t have been possible without Zahra knowing just how to push the Mako.  There had been no 20th century rock music on that run, though.  The smile won out.  “Sure did.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“See!”  Vega slammed his open palm on the table, and then instantly regretted it. Tali tossed him her napkin, but it wouldn’t do much.  “See, that’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span> the kind of thing I’m talking about.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>EDI’s head cocked with genuine curiosity as she shifted in her chair.  “What is your point, Lieutenant Vega?  How does Commander Shepard’s behavior with a Mako three years ago indicate anything about her current behavior?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kaidan had an idea where this was headed, and he didn’t think Vega was wrong.  He just wasn’t sure if it was worth bringing up.  Zahra had been through enough to change anyone and drawing her attention to it wasn’t always the best track to take with her.  The center of her was still the same, still that stubborn woman who cared more than she ever let on, who would go through hell and back for anyone who was </span>
  <em>
    <span>hers</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  He loved her for that, and if she wasn’t quite the same, well.  Neither was he.  No one was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The Commander, she used to be, man, what’s the word?  Fun?  Wild?  Kind of, I dunno, man, fun?  I mean sure she’s not a stick in the mud, cracks jokes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dark jokes,” Joker pointed out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right, dark jokes.  But she’s clearly not the same person she used to be,” Vega said.  Several pairs of eyes turned to him.  Tali’s bright eyes behind her mask, Garrus’s pinpoints, and Liara’s big eyes.  Even Joker shot him a sideways glance.  Kaidan’s shoulders slumped as he sighed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have to be the one to say it, don’t I?”  They nodded at him, and he rubbed the back of his neck like it ached.  “Vega,” he said, trying not to get angry.  “James, she </span>
  <em>
    <span>died</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  No one comes out of something like that without changing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look, I know I don’t know her as well as some of you, but I wanna help her have fun again.  We got two weeks of shore leave, and our commander deserves some fun.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I don’t know, she’s kind of hard on bars,” Joker drawled.  “If someone doesn’t end up in jail, they end up dead.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait, what?”  Traynor’s voice rose ever so slightly in alarm.  “Jail?  Dead?  Just from going to a bar?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tali patted her arm.  “I’m not sure why you’re surprised, Sam.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s your idea, Vega?”  Kaidan didn’t even try to keep the exasperation out of his voice, but he supposed hearing Vega out was better than not.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, see, that’s why I’m talking to you guys.”  His head hung low, and his tone was sheepish.  “I’m not sure what to do.  Thought we could come up with something together.  Went to that fancy apartment of hers, but like, she did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>seem excited about having people there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know what you mean,” Liara said thoughtfully, having regained some of her color.  “She was somewhat, hm, subdued when I visited her.”  Tali and Traynor both nodded and added their voices in agreement.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She seemed to enjoy the shuttle ride,” Cortez offered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And she did help me out at the bar,” Garrus said, then his flanges twiched in something like a thoughtful frown.  “Though she did get out of there pretty quickly after.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She isn’t crazy about the party idea, either,” Joker admitted.  Kaidan’s shoulders eased back, the shape of something taking root in his mind.  Something about the sight of Zahra on a mission she knew was going well, how her mouth would stretch in an off-center fierce grin, or how after a successful, death-defying drop, her Pacific grey eyes would spark like a lightning storm over crashing waves.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s right.”  Kaidan’s voice was quiet, soft.  He was more talking to himself than anything else.  Faced turned to him, but he stared into the middle distance, the dim, faithful recreation of a dingy Earth bar fading away.  “Zee doesn’t handle down time well, but we’ve been going about it all wrong.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How so, Major?” EDI asked.  The question jolted him out of his half-formed thoughts, and he was surprised to see most of the crew of the Normandy looking to him like he had all the answers.  When it came to Zee, he wasn’t sure if anyone could have all the answers, but he might have a better shot than most.  Rubbing the back of his suddenly too-warm neck, he worked through the thought until he reached the end of it before saying it out loud.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ve all been doing things </span>
  <em>
    <span>we</span>
  </em>
  <span> want to do.  What was it?  Watching vids, working out, meeting at the bar, entering a game tournament?  We need to think about what </span>
  <em>
    <span>she</span>
  </em>
  <span> wants.  What would make her really light up, I guess.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, don’t keep us in suspense, Kaidan,” Joker said sharply.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kaidan grinned.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So, Traynor,” Zahra drawled.  Neon streaks smeared past the windows of the car as they rose up and away from the strip.  “You gonna say where we’re going, or you going to keep me in suspense?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s a surprise,” she said, trailing off into a nervous titter.  “I can’t tell you.  That would defeat the purpose of a surprise, Commander.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right, cause the last surprise turned out so well.  You aren’t luring me into a trap are you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?!  No!  I would </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”  Traynor’s lips pressed together tightly and her nose crinkled when she glanced over from the driver’s seat to see Zahra’s smirk.  “Yes, yes, very funny, Commander.  I see what you did there, but you are not getting any information out of me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That means the crew sent you because they knew they couldn’t keep me from being suspicious, but they knew that you could keep your mouth shut.  Interesting.”  Zahra shifted in the passenger seat.  Traynor had showed up at her door and said that she had a surprise for Zahra waiting down in the lower levels.  It was a bold enough move that Zahra hadn’t thought twice about shrugging into her leather jacket and leaving the apartment.  It was getting too quiet in there anyway.  Samara had lingered a little after Thane’s memorial service, but that had been two days ago and the apartment was pressing in on her.  Just a bit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At least Kolyat was doing well these days.  She owed Thane that much.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Needed to get out anyway, so here she was.  Traynor driving, more like anxiously holding onto the wheel in a white-kuckled grip while other cars sped around them, to some undisclosed location with the promise of a surprise Zahra would like.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I never said the rest of the crew were involved.”  Traynor’s voice rose in pitch, a little false protest which was nearly adorable all things considered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Didn’t have to, Specialist.  This has </span>
  <em>
    <span>crew scheme</span>
  </em>
  <span> written all over it.  But we don’t have to talk about that.  How about, oh, I know, how much time you’ve been spending with Tali since she came on board?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I.  What?  No, that’s not—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cause it might just be me, but maybe you have a thing for possibly-unobtainable women with sexy voices.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“WHAT?!  No, I mean.  Where are you getting that from?  I mean, we just talk a lot about tech, and she’s very intelligent, and oh God, why is this </span>
  <em>
    <span>happening</span>
  </em>
  <span> to me?”  Traynor’s face screwed up in embarassed agony, her dark cheeks going even darker.  Her shoulders slumped, but the white-knuckle grip eased and her driving improved.  A bit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A chuckle rumbled up from behind Zahra’s breastbone, making Traynor squirm uncomfortably in the driver’s seat.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, alright, I’ll let it drop, because I’m nice like that.”  Zahra leaned back in the seat, hands threaded together behind her head and legs kicked out as much as the seat would allow.  She closed her eyes and let the neon wash over her as Traynor kept attempting to drive.  “Keep going, Traynor, I’ll play along.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The steady hum of traffic filled the cabin of the car.  Then, in a quiet voice barely above a whisper, Traynor said, “Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Holy shit.”  Zahra couldn’t believe it.  This was impossible.  This was insane.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good surprise, then?”  Kadian watched her from underneath dark eyebrows like he was uncertain, but the curve of his lips told her he knew exactly what he was about.  Damn him for knowing her so well.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Everyone was here, the whole crew of the Normandy.  Each one of them beaming at her like kids who had just gotten a lifetime supply of ice cream.  Most of them were in the stands, Chakwas and Joker easy to pick out among the crowd of Yeomen and other Specialists, along with Traynor.  Even Sarah and Kolyat were in the stands, bright smiles on their faces.  But it was what was on the track that held her attention the most.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Adams came around from behind one of the six Makos on the track and patted the overly armored hell-on-wheels somewhat affectionately.  “I think they’re all ready for you, Commander.  Took us a little bit, but it was good to get our hands dirty while other people are all over the Normandy.”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Too right,” Donnelly agreed, “not a fan of other hands on my girl.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Would require you to have a girl,” Daniels replied easily.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra let all fade into the background.  How the hell had they found six Makos?  And how they hell had they gotten a hover-car race track converted into a good old fashioned tread-on-dirt track?  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s not all,” Kaidan said as he gently turned her around.  The doors to the crew pits opened up and out walked—no strutted like a high octane adventure vid—every last member of her past and present ground crews who were currently on the Citadel.  And in the middle of her crew were two figures she hadn’t thought she’d ever see again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Holy fuck,” she whispered to herself.  Then the grin broke out over her face even as Miles, the human labrador in the shape of a Viking, loped forward and swept her up in a hug.  She went dead weight like usual and threw her head back laughing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good to see you, too, love,” he said with a grunt.  “Damn it, Zee, did you get heavier?”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I got metal bones now,” she reminded him with a smile.  Her feet touched back down on the ground just as everyone else crowded around.  Jae-min sauntered forward, a pleased grin curving up her lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good to see you, Zee.  Though I’m a little mad at you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, why’s that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where the hell have you been keeping </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> boy?”  Jae’s dark, almond-shaped eyes flicked over to Vega.  Vega who noticed the attention and tried to shuffle away.  Served him right, flirting every chance he got, Zahra finally had proof he was all talk, no follow through.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jae, be nice.  I kind of need him intact.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t break him.  Much.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d start running Vega,” Zahra called out.  Vega shuffled further away.  “Okay, alright, so, we’re having a race, I take it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Got it in one, Zee,” Kadian said.  Head cocked and that half smile tugging at his lips, he was clearly proud of himself.  Well, she’d let him have this one.  Was a damn good idea, this.  When was the last time she’d driven a Mako?  Probably on Ilos, and then she’d been shot through a Relay and come out the other side turned over and on fire.  Probably could manage to keep the beast upright and sans-flames this time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe.  Well, she’d try.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rocking back on her heels, Zahra clapped her hands.  “Okay, so what’s the deal?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We figured the best way to do this was have Alliance personnel be the drivers.  We’re certified, and all of us here do have experience driving these things.”  Kaidan’s grimace made her grin even wider.  He </span>
  <em>
    <span>hated</span>
  </em>
  <span> driving the Mako.  Not that she doubted the fact that she’d win, but she was going to wipe the floor with everyone.  He took a deep breath, like he had to brace before telling her the rest.  “Everyone else will be picked for teams.  One person on shields, one person on guns.  Adams and the engineers fixed us up with stunning rounds.  Shorts the shields, stuns the driving mechanism if the shields are down.  It </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> be safe.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” Daniels protested, “I triple checked and we tested each one, didn’t we?”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Miles slung his arm around Daniels’ shoulder and nodded.  “Too right, love.”  Donnelly scuffed his feet in the dirt, trying not to scowl.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra blinked.  That was unexpected, but before she could ponder one of her oldest friends making moves on one of her engineers—or maybe it was the other way around, Miles was a God damned poster boy—Kadian kept on laying out the ground rules.  Taking his sweet time about it too, since her whole body itched to get behind the steering mechanism.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anyway, we laid out a track and first person to make eight full laps wins.  Should be interesting.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I designed it!” Joker shouted from the stands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You aren’t going to drive, Joker?” Zahra called up to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, bones?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She waved off his protest, but let it stand.  Then she clapped her hands and rubbed them together eagerly.  “Alright, let’s pick teams!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I really don’t think this is a good idea,” Traynor protested.  “I know you were one person short, Commander, but surely there’s someone better than me for this?”  The inside of the Mako was dim and familiar, like when Alenko and Williams had sat behind her, or Liara and Garrus, or Tali and Wrex.  Back when she had dropped out of the sky to ear-splitting music and had loved every second of it.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kaidan tugged on Traynor’s straps, double checking the hold.  “You’ll be fine, just um, do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> unbuckle.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, right here,” Zahra protested from her spot in the driver’s seat.  Kaidan didn’t even turn around.  “And you’ll be fine Traynor.  You’re quick, and that matters more than anything else.”  It was a vote of confidence, even if she had been forced to cajole Traynor out from her place in the stands.  Damn chance that she’d been forced to pick last.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, you’ll want to pay attention, this is the most important sequence if you’re with Shepard.”  Tali tapped out a series of commands on the defense console, and Traynor followed it with intense focus.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that, um, dangerous?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re in a Mako with Shepard.  That just means it’s degrees of danger.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Grunt chuckled eagerly at Tali’s assessment, but Traynor blanched.  “That does not inspire confidence.”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, we never died from a Mako drop,” Tali said, placing a comforting hand on Traynor’s shoulder.  Zahra raised an eyebrow and caught Traynor’s gaze, giving her a little thumbs up.  Traynor’s cheeks puffed out with irritation, only to soften when Tali squeezed her shoulder.  “You’ll be fine, Sam.  Promise.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, alright.  If you say so.”  Hesitation colored Traynor’s voice, but she sat up and focused on her panel. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can we start yet, Shepard?” Grunt rumbled from the gunner seat.  “I want to shoot Wrex out first.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“All in good time, Grunt,” she promised.  “We all set?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think so.”  Kaidan checked Traynor’s straps one last time.  There was an echo of Williams in that.  Ash always had checked everyone twice, Liara and Tali three times.  Always had to look out for the kids.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good, then get the hell out of my Mako so I can kick both your asses,” Zahra told them, the grin splitting her face damn near in half.  A thread of excitement, honest to God excitement, unwound from behind her metal and bone ribs.  It pulled her up, made her sit straight, and her fingers curled with familiar delight around the steering half-wheel.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh yeah, this was going to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>fun</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Traynor get those shields up!”  Wrenching the wheel to the let, the Mako veered, as sharp and responsive as a rhino.  Or a tractor.  Which she has grown up driving.  Through the viewport, Cortez’s Mako stayed just out of reach.  He was good, she’d give him that.  The only dedicated pilot among them, he had that advantage, but like hell she’d let him keep it.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then the turret swung around.  Jack was on Cortez’s turret, and there was no way she’d hold back.  Zahra let the Mako go broadside and gunned it </span>
  <em>
    <span>across</span>
  </em>
  <span> the track.  She didn’t even have to order Grunt to fire.  He opened up with his little laugh, holding nothing back.  Was going to eat through their ammo, but Zahra had a few tricks on that score.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bright blue electricity sizzled over the shields of Cortez’s Mako.  Zahra could just picture Tali frantically putting life back into the shields, but there were tricks even Tali didn’t know.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Coming alongside the struggling Mako, she barked a quick order.  “Grunt, aim for the wheels!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not needing to be told twice, Grunt opened up and the other Mako shuddered to a halt, smoke billowing out from underneath the vehicle.  Face split in a fierce grin, Zahra corrected course and opened the throttle as far as it would go.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Static crackled in her ear as the comms opened.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Dios mio</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Estaban, you okay there man?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shepard you bosh-tet!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re fine, James, but the Commander just completely fried our drive shaft.  We’re out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Zee, you’re not playing nice,” Miles scolded her, his voice tinny over the comms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you think she would, Miles?” Jae asked mildly.  Jae who was coming up on her six really fucking fast.  Zahra ignored the chatter and wished she had some good music.  Good music would make this so much better.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>The sirens are screaming, and the fires are howling</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” she muttered under her breath, the beat rising up out of her memory.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s not good.”  Kaidan’s low warning made Zahra’s smile grow wider before she cut the comms.  Locking the steering into position for the straight, Zahra drummed a little on the wheel and console, atonal voice filling the dim cabin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Commander?”  Traynor’s hesitation tripped over the word, and Zahra let herself have a little longer on the drum solo.  She heard the implicit </span>
  <em>
    <span>are you alright?</span>
  </em>
  <span>  Or maybe it was more </span>
  <em>
    <span>are you sane?</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra took the steering off lock and turned easily into the corner, hitting the apex cleanly.  She’d been fifteen, running a tractor up and down the furrows like a bat out of hell.  Tapping her foot in something like a beat, Zahra didn’t let up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, Traynor, they’re gunning for us now.  That’s exactly where we want them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It is?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Trust our Battlemaster, human.”  Grunt’s basso rumble dripped with delight in victory.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m trying,” Traynor whispered.  Zahra kept the speed up as they came out of the corner, the Mako’s body rocking heavily to one side without going up on one side.  Not yet, she thought, that was for later.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Five laps down, three to go.  The track was littered with ruined Makos.  She had Miles and James still on her tail.  Jae had gone down second, always too eager to one up everyone else.  Shame that Kaidan’s team had gotten caught up in the crash, but they were fine if the swearing was anything to go by.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now she was left with two strong teams.  MIles, who had Garrus and Zaeed in his corner, and James, who had Wrex and EDI.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I'm gonna hit the highway like a battering ram, on a silver-black phantom bike</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Zahra sang.  Badly.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Battlemaster.”  Her ears perked up at Grunt’s low warning, and she checked the cameras.  Miles was coming in hot, James right behind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think I can get more power to the shields if I cut a few, um, safety systems.  Since you don’t use them anyway,” Traynor said, voice heavy with sarcasm.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>When the metal is hot, and the engine is hungry</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  Do it!” Zahra ordered.  Stabilizers and shock absorption cut out, only the sheer weight of the Mako and their restraints kept them in their seats.  Made for a jolting, jangling view out the window, but it gave them more juice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The first shot sizzled along their shields, but Zaeed wasn’t one for subtlety.  He opened up, laying on the damage.  Zahra kept her jaw loose as they bumped over the track, the buzz of the shields in her ears.  Grunt swiveled around and returned fire, drawing on the back up energy cells instead of the main ones.  The fire forced Miles to swerve first, letting her break away, but James was gaining fast, ready to take over while Miles recovered Zahra didn’t doubt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>And we’re about to see the light!</span>
  </em>
  <span>  Be ready!” Zahra shouted.  Just needed James a little closer.  Just a little bit closer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Be ready for </span>
  <em>
    <span>what?!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Traynor cried.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra slammed on the breaks, throwing them all hard against the restraints.  James was already swerving to avoid hitting her head on, but Zahra had the Mako in full reverse and fired the retro rockets.  The Mako lifted up off the ground.  Traynor’s strangled scream and Grunt’s laugh tripped along the beat in her head, and at the apex of the arc she floated free.  Then they came crashing down back to ground.  Right between James and Miles.  Right where she wanted to be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“W</span>
  <em>
    <span>ell I know that I'm damned if I never get out, and maybe I'm damned if I do,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Zahra cooed.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m going to be sick,” Traynor muttered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Got you now, old man,” Grunt growled, and shot James’s Mako at point blank range.  Their shields glowed an incandescent blue—naughty EDI cheating, Zahra thought absently.  Then she saw Zaeed drawing a bead on her.  Oh, that was going to cost Miles.  Zahra could practically hear Garrus’s shout of warning just as she gunned it and got out from between the two survivors.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pressed back against her seat, Zahra grinned as Zaeed’s shot missed her and slammed right into James’s Mako.  Smoke curled from James’s vehicle.  Zahra tapped out another little refrain on the console as she gunned it forward.  Six laps.  Two more to go.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra couldn’t pull away from Miles without presenting herself as too good a target.  That also meant he couldn’t either.  Nearly touching, practically wheel-to-wheel like an old vid set in Roman times, their shields were totally spent and didn’t even spark off each other.  Shame she didn’t have little spikes on the wheels. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Almost to the last curve.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her foot tapped out the beat, the song looping over and over in her head.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Well I can see myself tearing up the road, faster.</span>
  </em>
  <span>  Traynor,” she snapped.  “That sequence Tali showed you, you remember it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Traynor answered crisply.  The edge of winning had gotten into the comm specialist, and Zahra grinned, teeth gleaming in the dim cabin.  “Though I don’t know how it will help us now.  It’s meant to restore shields, but our shields are completely burned out.  You made sure of that last lap.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But there’s still energy to be had, isn’t there?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, from the battery reserve, barely, and from the main ammo cells, I suppose.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And,” Zahra said sweetly, “from the eezo core.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh no.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shepard, you are the best Battlemaster.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Quick, Traynor.  Grunt help her.  We’ll slide to victory if we have to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Grunt unbelted his harness and slammed to the floor of the Mako, getting to work.  He stood next to Traynor’s console and typed out commands forcing massive power reroutes.  Just one boost of speed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Brace!” Zahra shouted as she took the inside turn, heart hammering against her ribs in a way she’d missed.  Not combat, not dread, but pure </span>
  <em>
    <span>thrill</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  “</span>
  <em>
    <span>And my skin is raw, but my soul is ripe,</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And no one's gonna stop me now, I'm gonna make my escape</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The wheels churned in the dirt and gravel, sending up a clacking spray of rocks.  Miles was just to her outside, doing the exact same, holding to the tightest turn he could.  The finish line came in sight, and the rest of the crew stood in the stands waving and jumping and probably screaming.  Zahra heard the beat in her head.  She just needed a little more, that was all.  Just a little—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There!” Grunt exclaimed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now, Commander!” Traynor shouted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The force of the surge tried to throw her back into her seat, but she breathed out sharply and static tingled over her skin.  A bubble of ozone-sweet biotics sprang to life around her and her crew, holding them in place as they shot into the lead.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Like she could hear it, hear the whirring fizz of the gun firing up behind her, Zahra grit her teeth and filled her lungs slowly and blew out gently from between pursed lips.  Her biotic shield pulsed, a corsucating blue all around her, and then it expanded out.  Out and out and out, and she grunted as the shot impacted her biotic shield.  A fission of phantom pain crawled up her spine and into her skull, but she held on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Zee!”  Panic edged Kaidan’s voice over the comms, but Zahra didn’t even have the capacity to respond.  This was it.  This.  Was.  Fucking.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>It</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Another shot hit her shield, and the shield cracked, white-hot anger searing along her implant.  The shield shattered apart like glass, jagged lines of pain arcing up her back.  She pushed it away, and like it would make a difference, Zahra leaned forward over the steering half-wheel.  Like that would make it go any faster.  Wheels tearing up the distance, s</span>
  <span>he screamed over the finish line half a breath before Miles.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sucking in a breath, she undid the restraints and stood on surprisingly steady legs.  Hooray for reinforced bones.  Traynor and Grunt were alright, Grunt cradling Traynor in the curve of his body.  One blue-grey eye cracked open, and a broad, blunt-toothed grin stretched across his face.  Traynor blinked and patted herself down before going completely limp.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>God, who did she have to kill around here for some real music?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra undid the hatch and the hiss and pop of fresh air was sweet, but not as sweet as emerging onto the field of victory, one leg propped up on the gun turret and </span>
  <span>shouting at the top of her lungs, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Breaking out of my body, and flying away like a bat out of hell!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“There is something wrong with you, Lola.”  Zahra gave James a bright grin and kept eating her ice cream.  It had sprinkles and everything.  Kaidan snorted, and Zahra glanced at Kaidan, daring him to say something.  Wisely, he chose to keep his mouth shut as he kept dabbing on the cut on her eyebrow.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We could’ve told you that, darling,” Jae purred, batting her eyes at James.  James who jumped back like a startled dog.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jae, I told you to cool it with him,” Zahra said, smacking Jae with her spoon.  Jae rolled her eyes with a sigh and slunk away for a beer.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The apartment was crowded with the whole crew of the Normandy in it, post-race beers on her dime.  Least she could do as a gracious winner.  Zahra still opted for ice cream.  Never could get drunk properly since the cybernetic upgrades anyway.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Miles was in fine form, recounting the whole race right up to the last second.  He caught her eye and raised his beer bottle to her before going back to the epic story, his one arm still around Daniels.  Well, good for them.  Grunt was lording it over Wrex, Garrus, and Zaeed.  Her tank-baby, all grown up.  Traynor was sprawled on a couch, still dazed, but Tali was being </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> attentive.  Zahra smirked, knowing she might’ve gotten that one right.  The two had been fast friends, but she had nothing against two of the best kids she’d known finding a little happy in the middle of this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Williams had said something like that to her once.  Yeah, that seemed right.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know,” Kadian said softly, honey over gravel in her ear, “it was James’s idea, finding something fun for you to do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmmm, maybe, but I got the feeling that the Mako setup was all you.  Regretting that now?” she drawled with a smirk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, not really.  Not when you’re smiling like this, Zee.”  He set the antiseptic aside and pulled out a bandage, applying it neatly to the cut.  “Besides, this kind of brings back some good memories.  Like when Liara threw you across the cargo bay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You were terrified,” she said around a mouthful of ice cream.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Until you came around, maybe, but I did get to see your freckles for the first time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jesus fuck, Alenko, you are too sweet for my own good.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, that would be the ice cream.  How many of those you going to have?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra shoved another spoonful into her mouth and did not pout like a teenager.  Kaidan’s chuckle rumbled in his chest and leapt past her ear and went straight down her spine.  Putting the kit on the floor, he sat down next to her properly, arm around her shoulders and beer in his free hand.  Zahra leaned back into him and watched the celebrations.  A few crew wandered by, giving her their congratulations.  Adams even took the time to ask to </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> do anything like that to the Normandy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Everyone was here.  Joker and EDI in a corner and laughing at their own private jokes, Samara found herself a quiet perch, while Jack challenged Liara and Cortez to a game of darts.  Kasumi was nowhere to be seen, but that didn’t mean a thing.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just got one question, Zee,” Kaidan said, lips brushing the shell of her ear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s that?” she asked, trying not to squirm.  Damn him for knowing what that did to her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What was that song you were, we’ll call it singing?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra sat up and set down her ice cream.  Kaidan watched her warily as she stood and called out, “Glyph, play Meatloaf, Bat out of Hell!”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The music switched over to something no one but her would know, but she didn’t care.  Grabbing Kaidan’s hand, she hauled him up and started dancing to a song that she’d known since she was a kid.  So who the fuck cared if she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>Commander Shepard</span>
  </em>
  <span> or not right now.  She sure as hell didn’t.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Two weeks didn’t seem so bad now.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>
  <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x7ES7ueI7p0">Bat Out of Hell by Meatloaf</a>
</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Good</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sigh.  Re-writing the Citadel DLC date with Kaidan.  Now with more emotional honesty and sweetness.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“It’s weird,” she said, popping a grape into her mouth.  Kaidan watched her from underneath dark eyebrows.  “No, I don’t mean the </span>
  <em>
    <span>clone</span>
  </em>
  <span> thing.  That was weird, but you know, kind of background weird that, let’s be honest, we all should have expected.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve got a point,” he allowed.  Onions and red capsicum sauteed gently in the pan, the rest of the ingredients laid out on the counter.  Zahra leaned on her elbows and watched Kaidan cooking with a smile on her face.  Was getting to be a permanent fixture, that.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The timer dinged.  In a smooth motion, a very well trained Marine and covert-op biotic specialist put on oven mitts and rescued a challah loaf from being overbaked.  Not that she could cook beyond ready meals, but she had been raised on good challah.  She knew what it was supposed to look and taste like, and it </span>
  <em>
    <span>looked</span>
  </em>
  <span> damned perfect.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So.”  He jerked his chin at the trivet, and Zahra set it down for him.  Bread saved, he cocked his head at her.  “What exactly is weird?  If it’s not the clone thing?  That still leaves a lot of weird it could be.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Point,” she acknowledged with a salute of her beer.  The lights outside the window were unceasing and yet kind of soothing in a way.  All the reds and the flow of traffic and life and </span>
  <em>
    <span>getting on with it</span>
  </em>
  <span> of it all.  She shrugged.  “All this, I guess, is weird.  It’s been what?  Six, seven months since the Reapers landed on Earth?  Done a lot in that time, and yet.  I don’t know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The pan sizzled and the heady scent of garlic filled the kitchen.  There was only the dull scrape of a wooden spoon for thirty seconds before Kaidan added the tomatoes and the precisely measured out spices.  Her mother’s recipe, memorized over two years ago by a man who had thought she was dead.  Well, she had been dead, but now she was still sitting here, in this apartment with the man who had promised her shakshuka once.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She twisted the beer bottle on the countertop, leaving little rings of condensation behind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>happy</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”  Meeting Kaidan’s eyes, those space dark eyes that had blue stars in them, God she was such a fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>sap</span>
  </em>
  <span> these days.  The words loosened from her throat, found their way past teeth that were forgetting how to clench, onto lips that grinned without cheek-pulling pain.  “I’m  happy.  The galaxy is burning, but I’m.  Good?  I feel.  God, it’s so weird, but I feel like I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> for the first time in.  I don’t even know how long.  Maybe ever?  That can’t be normal.  That’s not normal, is it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Setting aside that normal for you is a bit different?”  The curve of his lips suggested amusement, but the softness in his eyes pulled on her, that gravitational curve that hooked behind her breastbone and kept her in a steady orbit.  “I think it makes sense, and not just for you.  We’re doing good work.  We took Rannoch, took out a Reaper, and things are coming together.  You’ve got a mission, and you’re coming out on top more often than not.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know that tone.  What is it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tone, I don’t have a </span>
  <em>
    <span>tone</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Alenko.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm, sure you don’t, Shepard.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The mouthwatering aroma of perfectly seasoned shakshuka filled the apartment as Kaidan started to crack eggs into the mix.  Wouldn’t be long now.  When was the last time she’d had this?  When she’d been a kid, probably.  Had never made it to Israel, never stood in the place where her mother, her grandparents, her ancestors had stood and prayed to a God they needed to believe could hear them.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine,” she grumbled.  “Just not sure what it says about me that I’m the happiest I’ve been since ever while we’re at war with the Reapers.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kaidan shook his head and before she could react, leaned over the counter and captured her lips.  A quick kiss, little more than a peck, but it made her smile.  Like it always did.  Pacific grey eyes searched dark brown, and found only what had always been there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That you’re you, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra glanced at the pan and smirked.  “You’re getting tomato splatter on your shirt.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His sigh was halfway between a yelp and a grumble, somehow.  “Eggs look okay,” he muttered to himself as he gently nudged them in the pan.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Probably didn’t matter, really, what was the cause of it.  All she knew was that for once, every time she stood up, it didn’t feel like she was rocking in a storm, didn’t feel like the decking would give way at any second.  That standing wasn’t a damned fight anymore.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra drained her beer and came around the counter with a smile, snagging a damp towel off the rack. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Here, let me help,” she said, wiping at what they both knew were shirt ruining stains.  He chuckled.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re alright, Zee, come on, I think these are done, what do you think?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” she said, pressing her lips to his.  “I think so, too.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Stand</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Thessia burns.  They lost the Prothean VI.  There isn't much hope left.  But that is when you stand the fuck back up.  Zahra reminds Liara of that.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Get up,” Zahra growled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Liara’s head jerked up as she sprawled on her bed, tears bright on her cheeks.  Like crystals under the harsh glare of all her screens.  All those screens feeding information in a torrent, a glut.  Overwhelming.  Paralyzing</span>
  <em>
    <span>—as Thessia’s sunset sky fills with the grotesque shapes of Reapers, as they land heavily, as she stands in the ruins of the temple, defeat bitter on her tongue.  </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra smashed her thumb on the closest button and switched off the screens.  “You’ve wallowed enough.  Get your ass back up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sharp ozone filled the room, and the crack of Liara’s field was like a storm making the hairs on the back of Zahra’s neck stand on end.  Blue hands curled into fists, surrounded by an envelope of a mass effect field.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How </span>
  <em>
    <span>dare</span>
  </em>
  <span> you.”  Round cheeks puffed out, and there was an arc-current of anger in those once wide-eyes, so unlike—</span>
  <em>
    <span>Karima whimpers as the boy towers over her, blood smeared across the back of his hand.  She turns big dark eyes to her big sister, to Zahra.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Narrowed eyes and clenched teeth, her field seared to life along her spine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How dare </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span>?  That’s fucking rich.  I was there when they invaded Earth, and you were there when we took Garrus away from Palaven!” she shouted, shouted at Liara, at the asari politicians who thought they were safe.  At herself.  At her sisters years dead.  Why didn’t you fight?  Hide?  But that wasn’t fair.  None of this was fair.  “His father and sister only barely got out, but for how long did he live not knowing?  Kaidan’s father is MIA, did you know that?  Joker doesn’t know where his sister is.  And we all got the fuck back up and kept going.  You remember what I told you, then, after your mother died?  You remember?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I remember every word, Shepard!  I remember, but that.  That wasn’t my fault.  This is!  Do you have any idea what that’s like?  To look on a planet’s destruction and?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a vicious snarl, Zahra hauled Liara off the bed and pulled her up to her feet.  The field that Liara held vanished in her shock.  Never could hold on to the edge of a fight when she was surprised.  It almost made her laugh.  It would have been bitter, so she swallowed it like bile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Liara hung limp, dead weight like a cat.  Didn’t even strain the servos in her arms.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” she rasped.  “I know damn well what that is.  Or did you forget about that, too?  There isn’t space to wallow, not here, on the deck of the Normandy.  When you came back aboard, you knew what you were signing up for.  You signed up to fight.  Did you or did you not sign up?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You did, but—” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, no buts Liara.  Now is no different from then.”  Then, when a scared kid, more academic than anything else had lost her mother and her tears had frozen on her face.  But now was no different from then, no time to get mired in the memory of asari commandos screaming as they died.  Her grip tightened.  “Just like I told you three years ago.  You stand.  The fuck.  Back up.  And you </span>
  <em>
    <span>fight</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lips trembled and fresh tears traced already well worth paths down round cheeks.  For the space of a heartbeat, they were almost nose to nose.  Zahra’s fingers dug into the lapels of Liara’s coat, holding up all the kid’s weight.  Then the tremble turned into the jump of a jaw muscle, the jut of a chin, and determination sparked in big blue eyes.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Liara got her feet under her and stood.  Zahra let her go, and a knife sharp grin split her face.  “That’s it, there’s the fighter I remember.  So, you back with me now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m here to fight, if that’s what you’re asking me,” she said, voice softer than a whisper.  Her shoulders were set, rigid and too square, and her field cracked back to life.  Static sparked over Zahra’s skin.  The air tasted of ozone and rage.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rage at Zahra.  At herself.  At Leng, the Reapers.  Who knew?  In the end, it might not even matter.  Rage could keep a body going past the end.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good, because until we can figure out where Leng fucked off to, we’ve got a Reaper-killer to find.”  Zahra shifted her weight back to her heels and crossed her arms.  “You want in?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, yes I do.”  Chin raised, Liara’s mouth curved in a grin without mirth.  Her eyes were as soft as stone and warm as ice.  “And every Reaper it kills, it will kill for Thessia.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Damn fucking right, kid.  Damn fucking right.”  Zahra gripped Liara’s shoulder tight.  Liara stood on her own two feet.  That was all Zahra could ask for right now.  To not break herself over the what-could-have-beens, to shoulder the burden and carry on, to do the fucking job.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was no less than what she asked of herself.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Amalgam</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Leviathan has been found, but Zahra gets more than she bargained for.  A whole lot more.  Biotic mind-whammy weirdness ahoy!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The weight of the ocean was a constant, but the weight of Leviathan on her mind made her want to sink to her knees.  A bitter tang filled the remaining air in the mech, and blood ran down from her nose.  She tasted copper.  Shallow breaths.  She should take shallow breaths, but something else rose in her.  A stirring of memory older than humanity, a vast, ancient thing that pawed through her mind.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The memories that were stained red, fickered behind her eyes, one after another, after another—</span>
  <em>
    <span>Karima lighting the shabbat candles—The Reaper descends heavily, her soldiers run toward it, the last defiance of the Protheans—Norah with a blue ribbon for the science fair—The Mako is bent in half by the worm, acid flying, searing her skin—</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>An icepick sharp pain stabbed through the center of her head, the space between her teeth cracking with dark energy.  All the lights on the readout were red.  It was saying something, something she should try to hold on to better, but it was all a blur of madness.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You,” it said bypassing her ears and slamming into the back of her skull.  “You carry death.  It will be the death of the Reapers.”  Leviathan floated before her, serene and yet boiling with rage in the frigid water.  In the blackness it used a platform to communicate, she saw—</span>
  <em>
    <span>Mom’s hawk nosed face scrunched in disappointment slackens as she’s suddenly behind the kitchen counter, guts in her hands—The organic’s ships are so small, so insignificant before her might, before her clear, logical—Grey eyes stare up at her sightlessly, a third hole in Dad’s face is red between them, when before had been reminding her, reminding her—</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Klaxons blared in her ears, and she flailed.  Flailed for the rocket boosters.  They fired, giving her no warning.  The world streamed black, then blue, then a pulse of something greater than any biotic field she’d ever felt slammed into her through the water.  Bitter green and angry.  The rage bore her up, threw her back onto the wreckage of another ship.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She spilled out of the mech like a helpless animal.  Armor clattered on metal, and the world was upside down.  Upside down, and a whisper followed her into the dark.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra wasn’t breathing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Medic training took over.  Hours, hours Kaidan had drilled for first aid in the field.  Undid the latches of her chestplate and flung it aside, ignoring the lump in his throat, the terror shattering his chest.  The gravity of the shuttle and the gravity of the planet fought each other as they sheared through atmo.  He started compressions.  One, two, three, he kept a steady count.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blood smeared across her upper lip, her strong shoulders jerked at each compression.  Liara pressed two fingers to Zahra’s neck, and a puff of relief made it past her lips.  Heartbeat.  All they needed was that.  Just had to keep air pumping through her.  Twenty-five, twenty-six, he kept going.  Had to get to thirty before breaths.  “Tilt her head back,” he ordered.  “Two breaths, then I’ll—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Water fountained from Zahra’s mouth in a convulsive cough.  She rolled to her side, curling up like a drowned cat.  Eyes like the Pacific in winter fluttered open.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kay?”  Her voice was ragged, but it was her.  He sagged with relief, drawing her into his arms.  She filled the space of them like she’d always been meant to be there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t.  Don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever</span>
  </em>
  <span> do that to me again.”  Salt coated his throat, making his words jagged.  Her breathing was still off, but she was breathing, she was awake.  She.  He blinked.  Her hands were shaking, and there was something.  Something strange in her eyes.  Tilting her chin up, he unwound his field and the second it touched hers, it was like touching a flame.  Blue-green sparks danced over ocean grey eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can’t,” she breathed, “can’t stop it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was all the warning he got before the surge built in her field.  Fracturing, unspooling, infinite fractals of dark energy tendriled out, grabbing, reaching, arcing like lighting.  Kaidan bent his head and tried to ground out, but they were mid-flight, and the only place for it all to go was the shuttle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Commander?  Major!  Something’s wrong with the shuttle!” Cortez called out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Keep flying, Cortez.  Get to the Normandy!  Liara!  Contain!” Kaidan shouted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?  No, not with you in it!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The moment before the surge hit, before it slammed into Kaidan and seared through his field, his amp, his implant, setting his own brain on fire, the cool blue of Liara’s field contained Zahra’s field.  The shuttle juddered, the stars outside clear and crisp.  Out of atmo, dimly he heard Cortez radio Joker for a pickup.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kadian grit his teeth against the inferno that was Zahra Shepard.  She was rictus stiff, her teeth bared in a howling, burning agony as her biotics surged.  One breath out, he let the surge wash over him, wash through him, raging down the lines of his field.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The shuttle docked with a heavy thud and jolt, nearly spilling her out of his arms.  He held, held on because there was nothing else he could do.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bitter ozone surrounded her.  It was fog-thick and heavy.  Heavy like how she chased after the boy through the burning trees of Mindoir.  Like she was underwater.  Still underwater.  Had never left.  Except there were voices outside her head.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“—the commander’s mind is full of too much memory.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That is not a medical diagnosis.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It is the truth, Doctor human.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let’s just say he’s right, Doctor Chakwas, if that’s the case what can we </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She knew these voices.  The voice with the proud, bitter accent, and the other with the cool, upper crust tones.  The last, girlish trying to sound older.  She knew them all, but it was like trying to swim through concrete to reach them.  Tell them she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>here</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  Something else pulled at her, sucking her down into the blackness.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Zee.”  A quieter voice.  Honey over gravel, it tugged on her.  Up, not down.  A hand held her own, slightly cool and solid.  “Come back, Zee.”  The scent of air before a storm washed over her, and she wanted to open her eyes, but the darkness was coming for her.  Rising up from the depths of dark space, from the infinite beyond, it came for her, it— </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bitter ozone, blue then green, flashes behind the eyes, it all turned red.  Red as memories met and collided like ships in space, smashing together until they were all one tangled mass—</span>
  <em>
    <span>Norah laughs while Protheans die—Mom scolds her again to the backdrop of a Leviathan tearing apart a Reaper—thresher maw rears above her as Miles and Jae-min dance in the red sand like they’re in a Rio nightclub—her limbs unfurl in the vastness of space and grapple an organic’s ship, squeezing it until it bursts like the ripe berries that Karima’s eating, purple all over face—</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The electric current of memory shook her body, rattled her teeth.  Grey eyes opened, but she was on fire.  Couldn’t even turn away from the glare of the medbay lights.  Bitter ozone, so bitter, the corona around her bled between blue and green.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hands on her shoulders held her down, a dark eyed face over her etched with heart-stopping fear.  Blue surrounded him, swirled in space-dark eyes.  He clenched his jaw against the surge of memory and dark energy.  She wanted to stop, wanted to, but couldn’t.  Her body arced flailed, fought.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Other hands grabbed her arm, a cool blue ocean and a razor sharp edge.  Other fields, other fields bleeding her off, holding her steady.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Zee,” Kaidan rasped.  “Zee, you can’t fight it.  It’s too much memory for you to try to hold on to, okay?  You have to let it go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her mouth worked without sound.  Silent like the memories, the flashes of her life and not her life that flickered before her eyes.  Too fast to piece together, too much to hold, but if she let go of one, what would she lose?  She couldn’t lose any of it.  Losing the memories would be losing them all over again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her vision blurred, and there was salt in her mouth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know, Zee, I know, but we’re going to help.  You have to let us help you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She nodded, there was no other choice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We must be quick, Liara asari,” Javik snapped.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am well aware,” Liara snapped back, but Kaidan.  Kaidan held her gaze and didn’t let go.  That she could trust.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After Eden Prime it had been seventeen hours.  Seventeen hours of sitting, waiting, knowing he was the reason she was fighting for her life against God knew what.  When she had come to, the relief had made his chest ache.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His chest was aching now.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Two days, two days and counting.  It was an open question if he could keep dodging Hackett.  Poor Traynor.  Kaidan knew it wasn’t right to put her on interference, but if anyone else stepped in it would look even worse.  The stubble on his face itched, and he was pretty sure he wasn’t getting enough sleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The machines read out a steady stream of information.  Some of it he could decipher.  Change in brain waves, again.  Change in biotic output.  Not a surprise there.  His teeth, the back of his skull, his whole body buzzed from the force of her surge while Liara and Javik tried to put her brain back in some kind of order.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What had they said?  His memory was getting fuzzy.  Liara, her soft voice telling him it would take time.  Javik, Javik’s grim fatalism bitter and pointed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The beeping changed.  A different note that shot a terrible, electric hope down his spine.  “Doctor!” he called.  “Doc!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Behind closed lids, her eyes moved rapidly.  Like sleep, sped up by a factor of ten.  The bitter bite of her biotic field, changed now, irrevocably changed, filled the medbay.  Dark lashes fluttered against sandy cheeks, and his heart was in his throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Chakwas!” he shouted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The doctor is on her way, Major.”  Even EDI’s measured voice was slightly faster, just slightly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pacific grey eyes shot open, blue and green dancing in them.  Gasping for breath, she flailed, she fought.  God, she’d always fought.  He grabbed her hands and pressed them to his chest, right over his racing heart.  Her field crackled over his, static over his skin, the bitter ozone in his mouth.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One breath in, his chest rising.  One breath out, she matched him.  An autonomic response, a reflex.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door hissed open, but the doctor stayed in the periphery of his vision.  Zahra Shepard looked back up at him with wild eyes.  Eyes that had seen too much, eyes that crinkled with the memory of the dead.  With so many dead.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eyes that squeezed shut as she muttered one raspy word.  “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hand over her eyes, Zahra sank into the scent of freshly brewed coffee spiked with enough cream and sugar to kill a horse.  She should focus on the coffee, on the metal chair under her ass, on—</span>
  <em>
    <span>Dad’s face is etched in worry as he dabs her bloody lip while a Reaper lands in the backyard, but he doesn’t seem to notice as he says, “We talked about this, Zee, about the one you feed.  I know it’s tough— </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Static danced over her skin, over her lips, the phantom brush of a hand and the scent of clean ozone.  Her eyes shot open to Kaidan standing across the table from her, one dark eyebrow raised.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You sure you should be drinking coffee?”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Would you believe me if I said it was hot cocoa, not coffee?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry, but uh, no.  There are no marshmallows in it, and we both know hot cocoa without marshmallows is heresy.”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra toyed with the steaming mug on the table, twisting it back and forth.  Her lips twitched in spite of herself.  He sat.  Her leg bounced restlessly, the traitorous limb that it was.  Hands folded in front of him, he waited.  Waited for her to talk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She let out a sigh and ran a hand through her long hair, darker than the space between the stars.  Grey eyes darted to the corners of the deck.  Grey eyes that had blazed in warring blue and green as her biotics had surged wildly.  Her field still felt the same, but the ozone had a bitter pall to it, like the edge of metal.  There was no getting around the fact it had changed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not sure what I’m going to see when I close my eyes.”  The admission was small, but true all the same, and sharp in her throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You mean when you dream or, right now?”  Honey over gravel concern, and dark eyes that she could fall into.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Both?”  Her face twisted in a grimace, and he reached out, hand palm up.  She slid her hand into his with an irritated puff of breath.  “Fuck it, Liara and Javik got a look inside my head, I should at least tell you.  Since Eden Prime, since the Beacon, my head’s a fucked up place to be.  I kept seeing my memories, memories I’d put away, but they came back.  Came back with a helping of Prothean death.  Then on the dead Reaper last year?  I heard it, in my head.  It was still dreaming, broadcasting.  Talk about a mind fuck.  Thought that was the worst of it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Zee.”  The sharpness of his tone made the corners of her mouth twitch down.  Free hand held up in surrender, it was his turn to sigh.  “Sorry, just.  That’s a lot.  Did you tell anyone?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her shoulders rolled in something less than a shrug. “Mordin.  Gave me mental strengthening exercises.  Never opened the file.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So this memory cascade, that’s what Javik called it.  It’s been building a long time, then.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Guess so.  Liara says they put my head in order, untangled all the memories, but they couldn’t get rid of them.  Not without possibly getting rid of something else.”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The bottom of the mug scraped softly on the table as she twisted it about.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your sisters.”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Behind her eyes—</span>
  <em>
    <span>Karmia pulls Norah close on the landing pad as Collectors swarm the house, their chittering blending with batarian gunfire, as a maw screams bursting from the ground, acid spraying across her back—</span>
  </em>
  <span>a growl tore from her too tight throat, bitter-metal ozone in her nose, and she pushed.  The mug flew off the table and shattered, spilling coffee on the floor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Weariness pulled at her eyes.  It was bad enough awake, but asleep?  “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, hey.”  Warm voice, just barely cool fingers squeezed hers, and the static charge of him rooted her in the present.  “You’re here, I’m here, we’re here.  Alright?  We’re here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The chuckle in her chest was somewhere between dark and light, a midway point between all that she was and everything that was part of her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’re permanent, you know.  The memories and the biotics.  Lucky me, I’m made of spare parts all the way down.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re more than the sum of our parts.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nice platitude, but—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But nothing, Zee,” he snapped.  Her head jerked up and she looked down the hawkish line of her nose at him.  The curve of his lips told her that’s exactly what he wanted to provoke, to play on her refusal to take a hit and lie down.  God damn him for knowing her that well.   “It’s true, and we both know it.  So what if you have spare parts?  Everyone does.  Yours are just a little weirder, that’s all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So what you’re saying is that it doesn’t matter that I’m some messed up, cobbled together person with bits and pieces from all over.  I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> messed up, cobbled together person with bits and pieces from all over.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He squeezed her fingers.  She squeezed back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Got it one, Zee.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well,” she drawled, pushing away the red tinged, tangled memories, letting herself be tethered to the present, “can’t argue with that.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Charnel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Horizon, a garden turned into a charnel house.  Survival is insufficient.  Even in the face of extinction.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Is it just me, or should we be more horrified that this happened at all?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Garrus hummed thoughtfully, and like Zahra, he spoke in a whisper.  “I know what you mean, Shepard.  Experimenting on people is sort of Cerberus’s MO.  We saw enough of it over the years.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But for the Reapers?”  There was more gravel than honey in Kaidan’s voice, his anger simmering right at the surface, a wash of biotic static at her back.  “You’d think even The Illusive Man would have his limits.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“His only limit,” Zahra growled, “is his own sense of entitlement.”  The shotgun was heavy in her hands and her finger itched to pull the trigger.  “Come on, we need to find Miranda and get the fuck out of here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“At your six, Shepard,” Kaidan sounded off, and they moved through the well lit charnel house that was Sanctuary.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The brute slammed into her, cracking her head back in her helmet.  Bitter-metal ozone in her mouth, Zahra breathed in and tucked her head down.  A dull pop of a sniper rifle jerked its head back, but the thing that had once been a turian didn’t stop.  It raised up massive arms, like a nightmare version of a gorilla, and brought them down on her shoulders.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In her knees, servos whirred and braced.  The bones of her legs heated up, the wires under her cheeks burned, and she grit her teeth against the force of the blow.  That tiny head, weirdly detached from the rest of its body, swiveled and focused on her.  The mindless roar that came from it bypassed her ears and grabbed hold of her monkey brain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then the riptide of a reave pulled at her field, centered on the brute.  It staggered, shaking its head as dark energy stripped away its defenses.  Zahra grinned and, biotics crackling along her skin, threw herself all of two feet through space to slam into the brute.  Blue-green-white light flared all around her.  Couldn’t see a damned thing, but didn’t need to.  The reave was done, triggered in a biotic cascade.  She reared up and slammed her first down hard.  The shockwave hit the brute full in the front.  It wavered, lurched, and another dull pop hit right between the eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a tooth-rattling thud, it fell to the ground before starting to decompose.  They had long ago stopped trying to get samples.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The only sound in the aftermath was the snick of Garrus reloading his sniper rifle.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Saying something wouldn’t have been right.  Not here.  Not knowing that the brute they had just put down had been a scared turian fleeing the war.  That every banshee was an asari who had tried to find a safe place after Thessia.  That every husk, every cannibal was a desperate soul fleeing the destruction of their people, turned into horrors by the very people they had thought would protect them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra checked her shotgun and moved on.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Henry Lawson in her sights, her finger itched to pull the trigger.  Only the girl, Miranda’s sister, stood between Zahra and the justice that cried out to be taken.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>All these people</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  How many times had this happened in human history?  The wholesale, calculated slaughter of people.  Too many.  Too fucking many, but it had been a while since the last attempt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She should have known it would never be too far from someone’s reach.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But the girl fixed a steady blue gaze on Zahra.  Unflinching, waiting for what would come next.  Whatever that might be.  It was like taking bad medicine, but she kept her finger off the trigger and talked Orianna out of the grip of a madman.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She smiled when Miranda used the biotics he had given her to throw him out the window and to his end where they left him as they headed back to the courtyard.  Miranda’s ship was there, waiting, and she quickly bundled her sister into it.  On the gangway, however, she hesitated and half turned back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra waited.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know I’ve said this already, but thank you, Shepard.  You’ve saved my sister twice.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra flinched and turned away from Miranda’s gaze.  The woman knew too damned much about her.  Her eyes tracked out over the still uncultivated land to the east of the facility.  It was a beautiful world, Horizon.  Mindoir had been beautiful, too.  And Eden Prime.  Earth, Palaven, Thessia.  So many places had been gardens once.  Zahra worked her shoulders.  God she needed to get out of this armor and have it cleaned.  Death clung to it.  “Just get out of here, Miranda, and find some place safe for Orianna.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At least she had done that much.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dogwatch on the Normandy.  It was quiet.  Kaidan was sleeping, or he had been when she’d left him.  Her feet beat out an easy path, though she wasn’t the only one up.  In the CiC,Traynor’s gaze was fixed on her console, and all Zahra could offer was a squeeze on her shoulder.  It wasn’t much, but they both knew what it was to see the world you’d grown up on razed.  For good memories to be obscured by blood.  To know you could never go back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On the crew deck, Tali was a dead weight in her arms.  Drunk and boneless, but still muttering to herself about all she hadn’t been able to do.  There was no saying </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t be like me, kid,</span>
  </em>
  <span> because she didn’t have a say in that. There was only getting her to a safe spot to sleep it off and to check on her come morning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beyond the bridge windows the Normandy’s mass effect field corscuated bright and blue.  EDI, EDI never slept, never slowed down, but her gaze tracked out to that field of stars.  The question hung in the air, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  Why would anyone risk themselves, risk their survival to help someone they didn’t know?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra licked her lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because survival alone is insufficient.  Check the history files, EDI, and you’ll see it.  Over and over.  Even in the middle of holocaust and genocide, there are people who will always help.  Even when it costs them.”  Her throat tightened.  Even in a slaughterhouse, there could be kindness.  In an overcrowded train car, on a death march, in a camp, in a bamboo box.  There could be something human, even as blood slicked the floor, even as people tried to claw their way out of sealed chambers.  Grey eyes bored into the metallic sheen of EDI’s optical sensors.  “And I’ve always thought that was worth fighting for, worth defending.  What about you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>EDI straightened, head high, and fixed her eyes on Zahra’s face.  “Yes, it is.  To the death.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her fingers curled around EDI’s shoulder and squeezed.  It was the only possible answer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was what she had promised her sisters.  What she had promised all the dead.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Unrest</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Normandy hurtles to the Cerberus Base to get the Prothean VI back, but Zahra can't sleep.  Kaidan turns to a time honored solution to restlessness.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Flailing against nothing, no resistance but no give, hands scrambling at the back of the helmet, the stars spinning, then the world below, then the stars, around and around and around, blackness at the edges, lungs burning—</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra woke with a gasp, sweat cooling on her skin and making a nasty patch on the bed.  She pressed her hand to her chest and took slow, even breaths.  Slow and even.  Air, she had air. She was in bed, and the sheets needed changing, and.  Kaidan slept beside her.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Good.  That was good.  The furrow between his eyebrows was permanent—hadn’t been like that when they’d first met—and he had a good amount of salt in his hair, but the lines of stress and impending loss smoothed away while he was out.  And for a little bit he was that by-the-book Lieutenant who had helped her break a lot of rules.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Some of them were even her own.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She scrubbed a hand over her face, eyes tacky, mouth dry, and she pulled out her uniform.  Could do a midnight circuit of the ship.  If she worked, she might wake him up.  He should sleep.  One of them should.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Well, next time, wake me</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The heavy-duty synthetic material of her uniform bunched in her hands.  She let it go and tried to slam the drawer shut.  It closed with a barely audible click.  Her hands clenched and unclenched.  She needed to move, to breathe, to run.  Kaidan’s face was blue in the soft glow of the aquarium.  He looked peaceful.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She shook his shoulder roughly.  He woke instantly, biotic field coming to life and crackling over her skin.  “Zahra?  What’s going on?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You said I should wake you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I did.”  He turned to glance at the chrono but then examined her with dark eyes that knew her way, way too well.  Not giving her a chance to get herself out of the situation she’d gotten herself into, he grabbed one shoulder and pressed his fingers to the pulse of her neck.  “What happened?  You’re covered in sweat, and your heart’s still beating fast.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You keep track of my resting heart rate?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re damn right I do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Roughly, she shoved his hands away.  “Just like everyone else, worried I’m going to break down.  Don’t even know why I woke you up if this is what I get for it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know you won’t break down, Zee.  You won’t stop, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>that’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> what scares the hell out of me.  That when the time comes and you should stop, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>won’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her head lolled forward and the heels of her palms pressed into tired, scratchy eyes.  Strong arms wrapped around her shoulders and held her close.  She pressed herself against his warmth, warding off any shivering thanks to her sweating through the sheets.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Talk to me, Zee.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A breath shuddered out of her.  One breath, then another.  Air, she had air.  She was on the Normandy.  The SR-2.  When had it become the Normandy in her head and not the SR-2?  Probably around the time she’d taken it through the Omega-4 relay and made it her own.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Did that mean she was a pirate?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A wild laugh bubbled up from her stomach, rising through her chest and throat, and bursting out of her mouth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I stole her.  Stole her right out from that illusive fucker’s nose.”  She ran a hand along the bulkhead, the metal cool and soothing to the touch.  Her mouth twisted into a bitter grimace.  “He’s been waiting a long time for payback.  Finally got it.”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her hand curled into a fist and glowed blue-green.  Kaidan’s hand closed around her wrist before she could strike the hull with all the force of a biotic punch.  Their fields cracked off of each other, like two storm fronts meeting and sparking off thunder and lightning.  He breathed and let her rage wash over him, through him, and away.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hate him,” she snarled.  “He’s the reason I’m here, and sometimes I hate him for it so much I can’t, I can’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  He’s the reason I wake up not knowing how to breathe.  The reason I remember spinning out in space.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Alone</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  Because we’re all alone in the end, Kay.  Don’t you know that?  Ash was alone, and Mordin, and Thane.  And every asari on Thessia that died, died alone and screaming knowing that was it.  And </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  I died </span>
  <em>
    <span>alone</span>
  </em>
  <span> and cold and fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>helpless</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  And he’s going to die alone, too.  I’m going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking</span>
  </em>
  <span> make sure of it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kaidan didn’t sigh, didn’t speak.  Instead, he pulled her back to him, one gentle tug after the next until her rage couldn’t be sustained and her body began to shake.  Her eyes squeezed tight, and she let him hold her in the dark.  His heartbeat was steady in her ear, and she breathed as his chest rose and fell.  Calm, even.  Steady.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She let her eyes go out of focus as the tension slowly bled out of her body.  “Never even hated batarian slavers this much.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We can call this personal growth, then.”  His dry tone cut underneath the vitriolic rage that simmered behind her breastbone.  A half-hearted attempt at a chuckle petered out before it got going, but it was better than trying to punch a hole through the hull.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It didn’t erase the sight of Thessia burning.  Or the gurgling sound of Thane’s last breath.  Or the red-hot sear of her cybernetics after she’d woken up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks for that silver lining, Kay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anytime.”  His hand rubbed her back gently.  God she was so tired, but her brain was spinning too fast to sleep.  She shifted, tried to pull away, but he held her fast.  “Nope, you need sleep.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You aren’t the first person to tell me that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, but I might be the one who can do something about it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She frowned up at him.  “What, you gonna read me a bedtime story?”  She snorted darkly at the picture of it, but he grinned at her.  That knowing grin that made her want to kick and kiss him at the same time.  “Oh, this is stupid, Kay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” he admonished, wagging one finger at her.  She rolled her eyes, but he reached for his datapad and tapped out a few commands.  Curious, and annoyed that she was curious, she shuffled back under the sheets with him and rested her head on his chest as he muttered.  “Need something with adventure, but nothing too dark, maybe a bit of humor, but not too wacky, and a good ending.  Has to have a good ending, ah!  Got it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, don’t keep me in suspense.”  She jabbed him in the side, but he just wrapped an arm around her middle and pressed her closer to him.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think you’ll like this one.”  He cleared his throat and read, “Tell me, O Muse, of that ingenious hero who travelled far and wide after he had sacked the famous town of Troy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait, wait, is this </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Odyssey</span>
  </em>
  <span>?  Seriously?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You recognized it from the first line?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, I just didn’t do well on </span>
  <em>
    <span>tests</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  Didn’t mean I learned nothing at all.  Part of every high school curriculum.  No escaping the classics, as Dad said.  Didn’t think it was fair since he </span>
  <em>
    <span>set</span>
  </em>
  <span> the curriculum on Mindoir.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, then you know the ending.  It's a good one.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lost his crew,” she muttered darkly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But he comes home.”  His voice, honey over gravel, was soft, so soft in the dim light of her—</span>
  <em>
    <span>their</span>
  </em>
  <span> cabin.  She flicked a speck of imaginary dust off the top sheet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, that’s a pretty good ending.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then you mind if I keep reading?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not at all, read away.”  Zahra shifted, making herself a little more comfortable, and let her eyes drift shut as Kaidan’s voice wove a tale as old as human memory: “Many cities did he visit, and many were the nations with whose manners and customs he was acquainted; moreover he suffered much by sea while trying to save his own life and bring his men safely home…”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Because why not go all in on the Odysseus/Ulysses theme?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Last</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A last stand, a last chance, a last hope.  This was always going to be Zahra Shepard's last fight.  The fight on Earth.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Rubble crunched underneath her boots.  Shotgun sat heavy on its magclips at her back.  It had never felt heavy before, but it dragged at her now.  The beam, brilliant white, so white it was hard to look at in the perpetual gloom that hung over London.  Only this gloom wasn’t only the shitty English weather.  It was smoke, it was destruction.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was the end.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shepard.”  She turned at the sound of Anderson’s deep voice, a leaden lump behind her bone and metal sternum.  There had been too many goodbyes that were trying to be anything but— </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Joker limps to his feet and gives the only unironic salute of his life, and she responds in kind, “She’s all yours now.  Take care of her.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Vega’s grip on her forearm is crushing, “Who’s like us?”  Her armored fingers dig into his armor, “Damn few.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Pulling on the edge of Garrus’s armor, she is her own echo from three years ago over Ilos, “Get them out of here, Vakarian.  You promise me that.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Liara’s big blue eyes are young and old at the same time, “I have a gift for you.”  She squeezes the girl’s shoulder, “Save it for when we win this.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Tali stands straight and square, proud to be here, and she wishes the kid were anywhere but, “Just get yourself back home after.  Admiral.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>EDI’s too rapid blinking gives away her fear, her all too human fear, “Shepard, the probabilities—”  She shakes her head, a denial, “—aren’t going to stop us.  They can’t.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ozone and winter pine in her nose, Kaidan’s lips against hers, their armor clacking together, one last stolen moment, she wants to scream, to push him away, to refuse, but the gravity well of him keeps her close one last time— </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>—All of them, trying not to say goodbye, but they all were.  In their own way.  So was she, she supposed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But this was Anderson.  Anderson who had pulled her out of a shitty therapist’s office and shoved her headlong into the N-program.  Who had pushed her past her limits, who had shown her what it meant to be an officer, who had given her a purpose and a mission and a ship.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dark brown eyes glanced over her shoulder.  Kaidan and Garrus waited on her word.  Vega had done his bit on the landing, on the bow wave of the assault on Earth that had crashed them to the ground like the tide breaking over the shore.  Inexorable, inevitable.  She had promised Vega his place in the fight, but she needed the familiar at her back for this last push, this last desperate hope.  Because this wasn’t the wild run to Ilos, or the grim march of the Collector Base.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because this was the end.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Some last minute intel?”  Night dark eyebrow raised up, the scar still new but not at the same time.  The blemish that Cerberus had </span>
  <em>
    <span>corrected</span>
  </em>
  <span> was back where it belonged.  Anderson shook his head.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing we don’t already know.  This is it, and we better not mess up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have I ever let you down yet, sir?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Plain, bluff features were suddenly thoughtful.  “No, you haven’t, Shepard.  Not once.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra snorted, not sure if that was true or not, but it was good enough for this moment in time.  For the moment in time after she had seen the horror of Horizon, had broken Leng’s stupid fucking sword—the shattering ting of metal the most beautiful sound she could recall to mind—after she had heard the last desperate call of the Citadel as the refugee population evacuated from the last bastion of safety in the galaxy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Had Koylat made it out?  Sarah?  Bailey?  Anyone she had known, or just anyone at all?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No, that was for after, and questions about after weren’t hers.  She raised her chin.  “Thanks, Anderson,” she drawled.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The suggestion of a smirk curved his mouth, and its echo bloomed across her face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just wanted to say give ‘em hell, Shepard.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zahra’s laugh was a bitter bark, near enough to a gunshot that someone flinched. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” Zahra said quietly, more to herself than anyone else as she watched soldiers, some of them her friends, deploy.  Back into the fire, back to do what needed doing, here at the last.  “I’ve got a whole lot of hell in me, sir.  Been saving it up, just for this occasion.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The hum was a rumble that she felt in her boots.  Or maybe that was just another missle slamming into a building that was barely standing anyway.  Unholstering her shotgun, she turned, ready to go.  To go into the fight one last time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t count yourself out after this, Zahra.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her name in that deep rumble pulled at her ears.  Twisting around, she stared at her commanding officer, her N-school mentor, her friend.  And maybe the closest thing she’d had to a parent after Mindoir.  Words tried to get past her mouth, but nothing came out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Better get going, Shepard,” he said, his tone strident and commanding as ever.  “Wouldn’t want to miss this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shoulders back, head high, Zahra rocked back on her heels.  “No, sir.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rubble crunched under her boots, and the choking despair of too many goodbyes and horror lifted from her spine.  This was their last chance, but it might not be the last thing she ever did. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Overhead, the beam glowed white and incandescent in the darkness.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She just had one more thing to do.  One last mission.  One last tilt at the windmill.  And by God, by everything there was, she was going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>end this</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Helmet snapped into place, bitter-metal ozone filled her nose and white-hot biotic fission raced down her back.  A familiar burn.  Her teeth bared in a snarling smile, Zahra Shepard launched herself into the fight.  One last time.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. Reckoning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The time for a reckoning has come.  For the galaxy, for the Reapers, and for Zahra Shepard.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Copper in her mouth, bitter-metal ozone in her nose.  Zahra stood up as best as she could.  Her body was heavy, too heavy, battered, bleeding.  It was so bright in the center of the crucible.  So bright and distant from the fight that raged over Earth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her lips were tacky.  The AI that controlled the station was waiting.  The world was waiting.  Everyone was waiting.  Waiting for her to save them.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>You did good, child— </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hand pressed to her side, blood oozed out between her fingers.  She shuffled forward.  Everything hurt.  Flesh and bone, metal and circuits, they were all part of her, and they were all failing.  She could feel it, life dripping out of her, drop by drop onto the gleaming metal decking.  Shutting down bit by bit, until she stopped.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Another step.  Gritting her teeth against the numbness, teeth stained red, she kept going.  Past the point of all reason.  How many times had she been on her ass and kept swinging?  She just needed to do this one last time.  There had been a promise, but not a promise.  She wanted</span>
  <em>
    <span> not this</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but there was no one else.  No one else, as if there had ever been a way out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One last time, to pay for it all.  To pay for every mistake.  So many mistakes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Won’t let you down, sir.”  That was her voice.  Her voice that was raw and choked at the same time.  Choking on her own blood.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fingers tightened around the pistol’s grip.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Karima presses Norah’s face to her chest—</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Right up arm, left hand bracing, she sighted down the barrel of her gun.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yours to protect—the one you feed—</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Squeezing the trigger, the recoil kicked hard against battered bones.  </span>
  <em>
    <span> Wouldn’t change a thing, Commander—</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cracks spiderwebbed the glass, but it held.  Another step, she sighted against a world that wouldn’t hold still.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Had to be me</span>
  </em>
  <span>—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The clip ejected, flaring red-hot, the stench of scalding metal in the air.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Across the sea, siha</span>
  </em>
  <span>—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fumbling for the next clip, she slammed it home with a vicious snarl.  Gun up, another step, and another and another, firing, firing on glass that cracked but didn’t break.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>I must go to them, Shepard-Commander</span>
  </em>
  <span>—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She would not fail.  Not now.  Not at the end.  Salt ran down her face, the back of her throat.  It mixed with the copper, and under her skin the wires heated up.  The gun fell from her fingers, fingers that curled into a fist.  Corona blue-green, the bitter-metal ozone filled her lungs.  She reared up, a gathering storm, an earthquake, an inferno in her hand, time dilated, stretching out and—</span>
  <em>
    <span>Dark eyes hold a shiver of blue, honey over gravel on her name, a small rectangle of stone in her hand, saved and cherished, all that was left of a sixteen year old girl who had lost her family in a single stroke.  That girl she had been, the woman he loves now, she presses the stone back into his hand.  A promise to come back, to come home, a promise she won’t—</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The scream came from her gut, from the black hole depths of her.  The escape velocity of pain, the conservation of rage, the momentum of defiance.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her fist broke the glass, her corona flared, surged, running up her spine in white-hot fission.  The machine burst into yellow-orange flames.  Feedback leapt from the machine to her.  It seared, it burned, contorting her body as flesh and wires convulsed.  Head cracked on metal, and the stars, the bright, brilliant stars tumbled down.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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